When Fuji Became an Echizen
by FairMoon
Summary: What will happen when the Fuji family becomes a part of the crazy Echizen family? Especially when you throw in a one-night stand, attraction, and the promise to dominate the “new” sibling.
1. Prologue

**WHEN FUJI BECAME AN ECHIZEN  
**

_Written by Playgirl Eugene and MoonExpressions_

**Author's Note :** This is the first story co-written by Playgirl Eugene and MoonExpression in the favour of once again reviving the community of Thrill Pair. It's a great honour for us to represent _**When Fuji Became an Echizen**_, a dramatic story of nonsense and hilarity. And we hope to receive good response from our fellow Thrill Fans and inspire them to once again write.

**Standard Disclaimer :** The original Prince of Tennis and all of the characters, including the original plot, belong solely to Konomi Takeshi-sensei. The both of us own nothing of it and we do not earn any profit from this. This disclaimer stands firm for the whole of the story. Furthermore, if we use any material that needs to be disclaimed, there will be individual credit where due.

**Warning(s) :** In the future, depending on the readers' request, this fic might contain excessive, uncensored sexual themes; including sex between males, masturbation, foul languages, and similar traits.

**Summary :** What will happen when the Fuji family becomes a part of the crazy Echizen family? Especially when you throw in a one-night stand, attraction, and the promise to dominate the 'new' sibling.

**Setting and Timeline :** Unrelated to the original setting and timeline since this is technically an AU story.

**Character Setting :** Nanjirou (43), Yoshiko (49), Ryoma (19), Shusuke (21), Yuuta (20), Yumiko/Nanako (30), Ryoga (25)

**Chapter Details : **None in particular.

* * *

-- Prologue --

* * *

_**St. Maria Hospital**_

_**New York, America**_

_**08.30 PM**_

"He's beautiful, Rinko-chan…" a man, whose eyes gleamed with sad, but untold pride and joy, said as he used both of stretched hand to hoist the pink baby up in the air. A fit of small giggles broke as the baby squirmed a little; inky hair spilled over the small forehead and large golden eyes already glinting in innocent mischief as he gazed curiously to the brunet man.

The man, grinning almost brazenly, lowered the baby once again and tickled the baby's chin playfully. The baby reacted by grabbing the callused finger with tiny hands and proceeded to put it into his mouth before he started to gnaw on it with toothless gum in the earnest.

"Hey, now, little fella. That's not your chew toy, mind giving it back now?" The grown man faked a pout as he half-heartedly tried to pull his now saliva covered finger away; the infant though, refused to let him go and stubbornly chewed on the finger. He sighed dramatically after, "Only a baby… and he's already an Echizen. Stubborn little brat."

The tone was fond and proud though, tenderly loving at the same time.

"… He looks like you. Kinda quiet for a brat."

The brunette woman, pale and frail, chuckled softly from her place in the bed as she took in the accusing tone of her husband, who was frowning now as he narrowed his eyes to for any similarities between himself and his child.

A smile curled the man's lips as he gazed lovingly at his wife, "… We made one great looking brat, saiai." He reached forward, cupping the thin hand of the brunette within his own larger one and smiled at his petite wife. The woman stared at him with a pained, soft expression as she noticed the trembling hand grasping hers, and the golden eyes; usually so indignant, so passionate and strong, now almost pleading and tired and utterly… broken.

_Heart-breaking._

She felt tears sting her eyes as she felt the overwhelming agony, love, desperation and kempt frustration, every single emotion that her husband tried to convey to her without words to do so. Her husband was still young, still so free and so wild even after marriage tamed him to a point. The burden she left him was not to be trifled with, and she knew she wasn't being too fair leaving him with two little boys so suddenly.

"… His eyes though…" her husband looked up to meet the gentle eyes, "… they're yours, anata." she whispered, voice hoarse and so very tired.

The tennis player's glazed eyes widened a bit before those eyes softened once again and shakily, he muttered, "Yeah. Yeah, it is, isn't it…?"

She softly laughed; her breath shaky as the whispery sound ceased. "I'm tired…" the woman whispered, making him choked back a sob. "… I'm so sleepy, anata."

"… Yeah, I know."

'_But I'm not ready to let go… even though I know, even though I'm prepared for this… but to actually let go…'_

"… I want to sleep… want to so badly…" Rinko leaned back further into the white pillow as she closed her eyes while the man, with tears streaming down his face, bit down on his lower lip hard; so hard, he didn't realize that he was drawing blood.

"… It's time."

He forced a smile, a wavering and filled with pain kind of smile. To hell with his pride; this woman was his wife – his beloved wife. He could barely contain the sobs that threatened to spill should he speak now.

"My time… is up…" she let her eyes fluttered open and she titled her head a bit to gaze at the man, "Nanjirou, being with you, having him… I can never ask for anything else."

"… Rinko," Nanjirou managed somehow.

"_Aishiteru_. I really love you… and Ryoga, and I love our son. Even though our time is so little, a-and I might never see him grow… I'm sure he'll be a good child." Two trails of cold tears trailed down her pale, pale cheeks.

"Rinko, don't cry…" Nanjirou sighed in frustration, a hint of panic colouring his voice. He was never good dealing with a crying woman. "God, please don't cry."

"I-I'm very happy, Nanjirou. I was able to deliver him safely," Rinko managed through her slightly laboured breathing, "I'm just sad I'll never hear him call me 'okaa-san' or there to see his first walk…"

Nanjirou gritted on his teeth as he witnessed how death slowly consumed and claimed his wife. Possessiveness suddenly surged, knowing he couldn't stop her from leaving, and felt completely helpless. It was time.

"O-oyasumi, saiai…" he whispered quietly and painfully, hand never wavered in his hold despite his trembling voice.

"… Oyasumi, anata." Her dropping eyes broke from that of her husband's to her now silently crying baby, as if he knew what was happening and understood that it was not the time for him to make it worse. Rinko smiled, he was going to be a smart boy.

Too bad that she wouldn't get the luxury to watch her sons grow. Smiling knowingly, she knew that her husband would do it in her stead. Although she wanted to say so much more, she knew her time was up. Unable to continue to struggle to keep herself awake, she uttered the last thought off her mind.

"… Oyasumi, ne… my little Ryoma."

And she closed her eyes, face serene with a peaceful smile on her pale face—falling asleep in the frozen time, as one professional tennis player who was still wearing his tennis ensemble bent down and cried in sorrow into his wife's chest as he cradled the crying baby.

-

-

_**Fuji Household**_

_**Tokyo, Japan**_

_**03.55 PM**_

A twelve-year old Yumiko, wearing her trademark sailor uniform and pigtails, entered the house and bent down to pull off her shoes as she muttered 'tadaima'. Tugging on her slung bag pack that was slightly drenched, she walked toward the living room, passing to see her baby brothers playing in the middle of the room.

Shusuke, the oldest son of Fuji family, was smiling—an expression that never left his face ever since he was born, which was kind of disturbing because the child seemed to quiet and too knowing for some reason, but it bothered Yumiko the least. Shusuke was cute and sweet in her opinion, while Yuuta was a little noisier but still very cute too. She had a suspicion that Shusuke liked teasing on their youngest brother, though it was still too early to confirm.

"Ah, Yumiko-chan." Yoshiko appeared; a smile on her kind face. "Okaeri."

Yumiko looked up to see her mother's smiling face, one that she suspected to be inherited to the second child of the family. Yoshiko, beautiful in her own right, was standing there with a soft yellow sweater and white skirt—an apron on top of it with a wet towel held between her hands, her braided hair was gathered to one side; she looked like the perfect mother.

"Okaa-san." Yumiko nodded in greeting.

The brunette woman placed a hand on her cheek with a concerned look, "Ah, you're drenched…"

"It was raining on my way home and I forgot to bring my umbrella this morning. I think it'll worsen though. The roads were already slippery as it is," the girl muttered in relief; she didn't think that she'd manage without an umbrella.

"I see. Well then, have you had lunch yet?" her mother asked as she walked back to the kitchen.

"Not yet. What are we having today?"

"Well, we're having eggplant curry. Your father had been saying that he wanted it for quite a while." Yumiko raised an eyebrow, and Yoshiko smiled back at her. "He'll be back for lunch today."

Yumiko smiled as she watched her mother, knowing how much it meant for her when her father came home for meals. Her father had always been a busy man and rarely had time to come home. It was quite a surprise that he had the time to have lunch with them today. She was married to her father at a surprisingly young age, going against her family's wishes for her to enter college.

"I see. Well, then I'm gonna take a bath—" Yumiko was halted when the cards she slipped inside the pocket of her skirt fell onto the floor; the tarot cards that one of her classmate gave her for birthday present a year ago when she started to show interest in fortune telling and it was a popular trend between the girls at that time. Groaning, she knelt to pick up the cards, only to suddenly felt dread. Out of the cards scattered, only one was flipped open.

The card of Death, the omen of impending disaster, and the phone rang at that very moment, startling the dazed girl.

"Yumiko-chan, can you pick up the phone please?" her mother's voice called out from the kitchen, snapping her out of her trance.

"A-ah…" Somehow, Yumiko didn't feel so good. She walked to the phone and with slightly shaky hands; she picked up the phone. "M-moshi-moshi. Fuji's residence—"

As she listened, thunder roared outside in the rain, startling Yuuta and causing the toddler to burst out crying. Yumiko's eyes widened in terror as the phone slipped her hand and dropped to the floor, the voice of the other side of the line was heard, though sounded distant to her ears. Her mind swirled and her body felt numb.

"Yumiko-chan? Yumiko?" Her mother's worried voice was heard as the woman showed up by the doorway, holding a pot of stewed curry with both of her gloved hands. "Yumiko, what is it…?"

Yumiko suddenly collapsed to her knees and she started to cry, causing her mother drop her pot. The curry was spilled and soaked the rug, but her mother was more worried as to what made her usually calm daughter so distraught.

"Yumiko, what is it, sweetie?" She knelt beside her sobbing daughter, who immediately grabbed her and cried into her chest. Yoshiko began to feel dread as she stared at the neglected phone. Gulping, she picked it up with shaky hands.

"Moshi-moshi?"

She listened and then, she felt her whole body numbed in shock in the same manner as her daughter's had.

The scattered tarot lay forgotten on the floor.

Shusuke, barely even two years old, leaned over to hug the terrified and wailing Yuuta and something in him made him scared. He wanted to cry like he had never before. Young as he was, years later Shusuke would realize that he had had a feeling whatever had changed at that moment was going to change the rest of their lives, and he was right.

Nothing was ever the same again for the Fuji household.

-

-

_**Echizen Residence**_

_**Tokyo, Japan**_

_**Six years later**_

A raven haired boy with bright eyes frowned and crossed his arms as he sunk into a sitting position under the shade of one of the few pine trees of the new Echizen residence. He liked their new home fairly despite the lack of that familiar orange orchard and the new tennis courts were cool enough though he still thought that the ones they had in New York were better. It wasn't like his father to suddenly want to move and leave to a whole new continent but then again, his father hadn't quite been the same since his mother's death. All in all, his father still tried the best he could, and Ryoga forgave him for yanking them all out of New York and placing them in this place. But one thing that had not changed was the fact that he still didn't like his baby brother.

"I hate him."

His frown deepening, he grumbled and picked up a stray tennis ball from the dozens scattered around the court and chucked it at a tree opposite him as hard as he could. The ball bounced sharply back towards him and hit his forehead with a light thump, knocking his backwards-white cap off.

"Ouch!" He rubbed his forehead; the disarrayed mop of short emerald tinged dark hair standing up on end. Collapsing on the court, Ryoga let out a frustrated breath as he continued to rub his forehead.

"Why do I have to share a room with him?" he groaned, flailing his arms and feet wildly about in childish frustration, one that he'd usually deem unfitting for his proud thirteen-year old self, "Stupid old man!"

He could never really forgive his brother for the death of his mother. He knew, as people all around him—adults especially, that it wasn't his brother's fault. It was never the brat's fault; it was an unwanted _accident_. It was his mother's choice to give up her life for his little brother's. He shouldn't have blamed the innocent boy that didn't know anything, one that never even met the woman that delivered his life into this harsh world.

But he was a child; he was a son who adored and loved his mother and he was still in desperate need for her. Sometimes he himself knew that it was most likely the stubborn Echizen pride that disallowed him from liking his brother once he set his heart on it.

He watched as a boy, no more than six-year old sat with his legs spread in the middle of the court and scattered balls. The cute little toddler was hugging a racket, almost if not bigger than his own size, close to his body. He was wearing a baby sweater one size too big on him and cute corduroy denim, with a white cap that kept on slipping to his face. He was sulkily pouting and muttering about something, as much as a toddler could.

"Aniki… won't play with Ryo-tan." he sulked moodily, throwing balls randomly all around. "Why won't aniki play? He even took Ryo-tan's orange…"

Ryoma's pout, if possible, morphed into something more intense. It was now a full force kicked puppy expression. Should anyone be offered such an expression, it would be nearly impossible for anyone to deny him of his caprices. Much to his dismay, even Ryoga admitted that it was quite irresistible. But slowly, as the childish frustration slowly passed, Ryoma's face morphed into a lonely frown.

Ever since his early childhood, he was shunned away by children, mainly because of his Japanese heritage and girlish features. And despite his father's social standing, he was a motherless child. Every kid in the neighbourhood teased him for that. But what was a mother? He never even met his mother. Ryoga hated him because apparently, Ryoma killed their mother. Was it a bad thing?

Ryoga would always wander off somewhere, having disappeared earlier from the house to do something or to meet someone that he never bothered to tell who. Ryoma always wished that his brother would take him, talk to him without yelling at him, and smile at him. But it seemed to be so difficult, because he always made his aniki angry at him.

His aniki never smiled and never looked at him. Not once. How he wished that his aniki would though.

For Ryoga, it was either ignoring him or snapping at Ryoma; he knew that brat would always cry. Ryoma might be young, but he wasn't an idiot, as no Echizen ever was.

He just didn't get why his father never blamed Ryoma. They lost mother because of him, dammit! Instead he had to watch his old man pampered and coddled Ryoma to the point of being ridiculous, gave up his tennis career, and isolated himself from the world to raise that little brat.

At first, he was excited with the concept of having another brother, a new playmate. He has been the most eager to wait on his expecting mother, placing his ears to her round tummy in attempt to hear those faint heartbeats. He always talked about wanting to do this and that with the newborn brother; ones that made his mother chuckled. He couldn't wait for him to be born.

But everything went wrong when he heard that his mother died in order to deliver the said brother. And suddenly, he felt his whole world crashed and there it was—that blinding hatred he felt toward a brother he never seen and that feeling only enhanced when he saw the bundle of sleeping pink baby in the arms of his silently crying father when the man walked out of the hospital room. He had taken away his beautiful mother, his mother who smiled at him and hug him, kiss him and tell him he was a big boy and how she was proud and how she loved him; his sweet mother who should still be here.

So that was why, when Ryoma stumbled towards him to give him his messily wrapped up Christmas present, Ryoga had thrown the gift away, in front of the boy himself, and Ryoma silently cried. The youngest Echizen had always been a strong child for his age, intelligent and sensible beyond what was natural. He never cried, even with the treatment from the prejudiced society. But when it came to his aniki, Ryoma was just like any other kid their age. He wanted Ryoga's approval and love.

It had earned him a sound scolding from his father, but hell would freeze over first before he apologized accepted anything from Ryoma and _that_ was the Echizen pride.

-:- -:- -:- -:- -:-

It was summer when the just turned seven-year old Ryoma stubbornly tugged on an irritated Ryoga's shirt so that his brother would take him somewhere to play together. The older of the Echizen siblings tried to shove his baby brother, but being unrelenting, Ryoma continued to whine until Ryoga's short-lived patience around him snapped.

He raised a hand to slap the seven-year old, ignoring Ryoma's flinch, but stopped midway when an idea popped up inside his head instead. Grinning, Ryoga complied to the childish whines and Ryoma's small face lit up with the biggest smile.

Ryoma was too happy when Ryoga agreed to take him out to play and Ryoga did bring him to the beach where he and a few of his friends were going swimming. He told Ryoma that he could join the big boys for the swim and though reluctant, the little boy really didn't want to disappoint his brother because it was the first time that the older Echizen ever agreed to take him along.

So, gulping down his fear for he didn't want to be called a 'scaredy cat', he followed his aniki's lead to the water.

"Aniki, I…"

Ryoga was way ahead of him as he raced with his friends. It was impossible for him to catch up. He hadn't had proper swim lessons before nor did he swim much when their father had time to take them out swimming. Still Ryoma gritted through and pushed himself to follow his brother deeper into the water. It was a while before Ryoma admitted defeat and tried to stay afloat as he searched for his brother, who had already swam too far away. He wanted to go back to the beach but he was so tired.

"Aniki!" Ryoma called out again as fatigue started to settle into his little arms and legs now. He was a bit far from shore to make it alone in this state but if his brother could help him, then…

"Aniki…" Ryoma called out again using the last of his strength to propel himself towards the shore, wanting to shout and reach for his brother. He could feel the exhaustion settling into his young, tender muscles; he wasn't going to hold out much longer. Forcing his legs to work he pushed his head out of the water as he took a huge gasp of air and tried to find his brother through the group of buddies, as Ryoga has called them. He could hear the sound of ocean, his own panicked breathings, and the laughter of boys from afar.

"Aniki…" Ryoma choked out as he tried not to swallow water. He was scared and he panicked as he didn't know what to do. He wanted his aniki to save him. That day, Ryoma nearly lost his life and caught a serious case of pneumonia.

Ryoga was pale and shaking; he had been so close to killing someone, even when that someone was someone he hated. He remembered Nanjirou that came rushing to the hospital, sweating and out of breath, looking pale and terrified and _enraged_. The usually laidback man had never looked so dishevelled and flustered before and when Ryoga jumped to his feet to explain, Nanjirou back-handed his oldest son hard.

The boy's face was snapped to one side; his cheek reddening and his eyes wide with shock. Nanjirou's breaths were ragged and his eyes were filled with fear, anger, disappointment, _everything_ that Ryoga hated seeing coming from him. He was never one to raise his hands toward his beloved sons, not since Ryoga was born.

"You… you _idiot_!" Nanjirou roared, distressed and unable to express his anger with words at the same time. "I raised you to be anything but _that_! But look at what you've done!" the tennis player cried out in an emotional outburst. "What were you thinking?! God help me! Ryoma's only seven, Ryoga! He's only _seven_! He could've _died_ and what will you do when that happens?!"

Nanjirou's words seemed to have left a certain pang in his hearts; slaps of reality about how fragile a human's life really was, _his baby brother's life_, and how everything could've been different if Ryoma didn't make it. Ryoma was seven, he only realized it then. He nearly lost his baby brother, nearly lost another someone in his life. His mother had long departed and he was an inch away from losing that small, frail figure following him everywhere in the past.

His father's tear struck and trembling lips face left an everlasting image to be committed to his memory; just like that expression he had on the day Ryoma was born. Ryoga peeked into the room where his brother was still not conscious yet; he bit his lips and swallowed his pride as he prayed to whatever god and deity hearing it, and for his mother to forgive him.

'_Please, okaa-chan, make sure he's okay… please! I promise I won't do it again! I promise I'll love him, I _promise_!' _Ryoga prayed fervently in mind as his fingers dug into his palm in desperation. 'So don't take him away!' the sting of tears entered his eyes as he tried not to think about the state his father and he would be going through if they lost Ryoma here. Where would they go to escape this? They had left New York to settle their feelings for the lost figure of his mother who would never come back. And now this…

"Come on," Nanjirou finally said as the doctor approached them. Although he had been furious at Ryoga, his warm hand wrapped around Ryoga's shoulder anyway as if trying to draw strength for the both of them and Ryoga knew at that moment, despite what may come and go; his father loved him no matter how much he may think otherwise. "Doctor," Nanjirou started, but found himself unable to ask.

"Don't worry, Echizen-san. There's nothing life threatening now." The doctor smiled warmly, as if he shared their relief; no one liked telling news of death even if they were doctors who were trained to. "He's still sleeping, but he should be up and about soon enough. He will have to remain here for a while though. He's a strong boy, and very lucky."

"Thank you… thank you so much, doctor…" Nanjirou lowered his face and bowed deeply; his hoarse, shaky, and emotion wrecked voice flooded with relief and gratitude. Ryoga quickly imitated his father, not finding the voice to speak.

The doctor merely nodded and showed them the way into Ryoma's room. Guilt assaulted Ryoga mercilessly once more as he watched Ryoma's small, drained body lay sleeping on the bed.

"I hope you've learned your lesson…" Ryoga heard Nanjirou spoke quietly from beside him and glanced as his father who was looking at Ryoma in worry despite what the doctor had said.

"Aa…" Ryoga muttered as his father glanced down at him before sweeping him in a tight hug. Strangely, under any other circumstance, Ryoga would protest to being hugged by his father. But to be held at this very moment was comforting and familiar. Together they waited for Ryoma would wake up as the doctor had promised.

When Ryoma warily blinked awake, Nanjirou and Ryoga had been both there; both dishevelled and pale from lack of proper rest.

Despite the remorse that flooded his senses as they crowded by Ryoma's bedside, the first thing Ryoma did was smile at Ryoga. Unable to stand the silence, Ryoga started sputtering questions if he was okay, if he needed anything, and apologies that he didn't mean for any of that to actually happen. Ryoma's smile was so bright when said he'd like to go play with his aniki again. Ryoga's eyes had widened, and he broke into a cry while holding his brother's hand. All fear and uncertainties was thrown out the door as the three occupants of the room found comfort from each other.

They would make it.

Yumiko was 18 years old, a student attending an average local college. It wasn't because she lacked what it took to take on Todai or Waseda, it was just that she didn't have the time to focus that much on her studies and be confident in passing her classes. She had already decided to dedicate half her time to helping her mother support the family through her part-time jobs when she wasn't studying. Her mother had told her that she should finish her study first, that they can afford the affordable government universities, but Yumiko had insisted. It was in no way that Yoshiko could manage supporting a family of four with three growing children on her own. Not without help, at least.

Shusuke and Yuuta were both still in their elementary and there wasn't much they could do at that age besides a few minor chores around the house. Yumiko knew it was up to her and her mother to pay the bills and put food on the table so she took it upon herself to help their family's financial crisis.

Every day, she would wake up early and help her mother prepare breakfast before walking her brothers to school. Afterwards, she had to attend her own course classes then rush from school to her jobs. She worked as a part-time waitress at a family restaurant at day and a video rental cashier in the evening. She always went home late and could barely keep up with her studies but it always made her feel better to know that they would be surviving another day with the wages she earned.

Sometimes, she would feel exhausted, so tired of the hectic work pace she had willingly put herself in. After all, she was only eighteen, barely a woman, and she was supposed to be enjoying her college days—everything that she missed during high school because of her family's condition. But Yumiko was a mature and realistic; she was also a very patient person. She knew that she shouldn't be selfish, not when her mother had worked so hard for them.

She glanced at her mother from where she sat reviewing for her test the next day. Yoshiko had just returned for the night from her job and was as tired as she looked but she was forcing herself to do Yuuta's laundry.

Yoshiko, her mother who once had beautiful hands now turned calloused, took on several jobs to support them. She had married at a young age to their father and gave birth to Yumiko without ever tasting college. She had expressed her concern of Yumiko's sacrifices often since she didn't want her only daughter to suffer the same fate. But even with that said; Yumiko and she both knew that she wasn't capable surviving it on her own without Yumiko's wages as well. She wasn't young and as fit anymore, and with no man to support her family, she had to do it on her own, even when it meant that she had to sacrifice her daughter's hopeful future. There was no other way around it.

-:- -:- -:- -:- -:-

Yoshiko glanced at her eighteen years old daughter trying to concentrate on her assignment. She had wearily taken over the duty of doing Yuuta's laundry when she had returned from her night job and saw her daughter struggling to finish the laundry before revising her study.

Yumiko said that she never minded, but at times, Yoshiko could still see it in her eyes that Yumiko wanted to be just a normal teenager, having fun and be a little selfish without having to worry about anything. Yumiko never went to the beach during summer breaks, went on dates with guys that asked her out, or bought new clothes or accessories like her friends. Yoshiko felt so guilty, even when her beautiful daughter expressed such understanding of their financial standing. How she wished she could do more; how she wished she could make duplicates out of herself and be more capable as a mother.

She had such a good daughter. Sometimes, Yoshiko wondered if she should give up the memory of her beloved husband and remarry; just to ease her family's burden and then Yumiko might be able to taste a normal life, and her sons wouldn't think about walking down the same path as their sister. But she had to admit herself a bit selfish as well. She hadn't wanted to marry for money; she also wanted someone who would accept her, who she would love, and someone who could find it in his heart to love her children.

That was her problem. She always hesitated, always made excuses, and years spent in scattered thoughts went by. She was thirty-seven now, bordering on thirty-eight. No man would want a widow of her age with three kids when they could have the youthful and more beautiful that was still single and unattached.

-:- -:- -:- -:- -:-

One of Yoshiko's part-timing jobs was to work as a waitress at a traditional Japanese restaurant. Though rather old compared to the younger pretty girls that mostly worked there, Yoshiko was valued not for her youth; it was for her adeptness in taking in several matters into her hands at the same time.

Straightening her striped yukata and making sure none of her brown locks escaped the tight, simple bun she made; she walked with straight back and was as graceful as a woman her age could. Even with the lines of stress on her visage and the lack of vibrant smoothness that most waitresses here exhibited, she was still proud of her looks that her late husband had adoringly said 'caught him for life'.

That day, Yoshiko listened to the chatter of the young girls during lunch break as they giggled on and on about some rich 'old guy' along the lines of 'quite charming and cute' but 'perverted'. Yoshiko sighed wistfully at that. Oh, they were young. She was once like that too, squealing and blushing, when the jock of the school walked passed her and her group of friends; falling all over herself just to get a peek at a handsome guy who would never look twice at the average girls when they could have all the babes in their arms.

That day however, the manager ordered her to be the one to bring the apparently 'popular old guy' his orders. And so when she pushed the shogi to the side, she was met with the scene that nearly made her drop her tray.

The man had three young women around him, while he was having fun by telling jokes and innocently groping a bit here and there. Her eyes widened a bit as she stood there, and when the man turned his face to her. Their eyes met and Yoshiko felt a little perturbed by the strange golden eyes that seemed to either cut another off or just went straight through her. The smug grin though, contradicted his eyes, as he grinned brazenly at the brunette.

"Yo! Took you long enough!"

Yoshiko decided this was exactly the type she was terrified of marrying. "Gomennasai." Yoshiko apologized with a nod as she set the tray down soundlessly, trying to avoid those penetrating gazes. "If there's anythi—"

"Why don't you join us?" the man released his hold on one of the girls and slipped an arm around Yoshiko to draw her closer to where he sat with the other three girls.

"I-I'd rather not!" Yoshiko said as firmly as she could without being overly rude or sounding overly surprised. She jerked back defensively and with a curt bow she started to back out. If it were up to her, she _never_ wanted to see this man again ever.

-

-

_**Daishoku Restaurant**_

_**Tokyo, Japan**_

_**09.15 PM**_

Yoshiko sighed as she walked away from the all-too-familiar scene in the expensive VIP room. It was the same for the last three weeks now and counting. The same man, known now to her as 'Echizen-san' or 'Echizen-sama' as some girls sighed over, was coming everyday and treating the restaurant as a host bar to flirt and grope with the young girls, flaunting hefty tips and small, fancy gifts.

She had hoped to be far and uninvolved from all that but it seems Echizen didn't want to be left out in adding misery in her already miserable life either. He had special requested her to continue bringing in his tea, his food, his miscellaneous things that she had to politely bring and inquire if he needed anything else. She couldn't refuse; the manager was quite satisfied with whatever the man left because he had threatened to fire her if she messed up and Yoshiko could not afford to lose this job. Not when Yumiko was already trying so hard and her boys were doing the best they could without her around to make dinner because the pay of this job was one of the biggest contributions for their daily income.

"Yoshiko-san!"

Yoshiko turned and almost groaned as a fellow waitress scurried to her side. The petite girl with a slightly rounded head due to her chubby cheeks gave her a quick smile before glancing towards the western hall. "What is it?" Yoshiko asked politely. The glance already gave a clue of what it could be since she had just exited the western hall.

"Echizen-sama requests that you bring his sake. He's getting ready to leave for the night," the girl said with a small smile.

"I'll be right there with it." Yoshiko said, pasting a smile on her lips. She was getting awfully good at looking serene and friendly when all she wanted to do was throttle the man and reprimand the other waitresses for their behaviour. Walking towards the kitchen, Yoshiko told herself to bare it and smile.

-:- -:- -:- -:- -:-

"I see they've left you already." Yoshiko said pouring Nanjirou his sake he always asked for before going home.

"They did…" Nanjirou said staring out the window. He made no move to acknowledge her further as she finished pouring the sake and stood with her hands folded neatly as she waited for any other order. She found it strange that the usually boisterous man was rather quiet but paid no heed; she should be thanking heavens instead. She stared longingly at the exit and decided to make a quick run for it after all.

"If you should—"

"Why do you avoid me?" He finally asked turning to face her with his mysterious golden eyes.

"Why are you—?" Yoshiko scrunched up her eyebrows, not liking the demanding tone.

"You don't have to hide it," the man interrupted, "I know you do. _She_ used to do the same, never saying more than what was necessary." Nanjirou said picking up the cup with his sake. "It's rather annoying, but she never did take anything more than she's given."

'_Is he drunk?'_ Yoshiko frowned, wondering who the man was talking about with such sad look on his face.

Instead of drinking it in a gulp like usual though, he just stared at it while twirling it slowly, as if he was lost in his own thoughts.

"I believe you're mistaken, Echizen-san. I merely take my work seriously." Yoshiko protested with a quiet voice, not wanting to appear rude to the guest. She was confused at the sudden change, and admittedly curious about whom was _she_ that the man was talking about, but she knew prying wasn't the professional thing to do in this situation.

Nanjirou stared her and smiled, though not that wide and lecherous kind. "… Come closer and drink with me." Nanjirou invited as he patted the empty seat next to him, the one where one of those young girls occupied. He rested his golden eyes on Yoshiko again and she seemed paralyzed as the golden eyes drew her closer with slight challenge yet a touch of sadness.

Yoshiko considered the thought of joining him and bowed her head in apology instead. Somehow sense was telling her not to involve herself. "I don't think I should, Echizen-san…"

"You're quite interesting." the brunet man remarked, making Yoshiko tensed, "So serious and all. You don't quite fit in this restaurant…" Nanjirou assessed glancing at Yoshiko as he drank his sake.

"Come here…" Nanjirou said grabbing hold of Yoshiko's arm through her yukata. "Talk—"

"Let go." Yoshiko said, tugging back. She really didn't want to be involved with this man; something was telling her that it would be better if she didn't.

"I won't."

Yoshiko struck his hand that held hers captive with her other hand as she backed away in sudden fear; not quite fear, actually, but something close to it for the lack of words.

"Stop it…!"

Nanjirou stared long and hard at her before he waved her off in dismissal. Yoshiko hesitated; she was torn between running out and apologizing to him. If the manager got wind of this, she'd be in trouble… big time. Unable to think, she decided to leave without saying anything and shut the door behind her as she walked away from the room.

Nanjirou, on the other hand, was quite surprised she was unwilling to his invitation. It wasn't that she was married, not anymore at least as he had asked the other girls. And it wasn't as if he was interested in her either, or maybe he was… _slightly_. But she had reminded him so much of his beloved. Not physically though. There were evident that the woman had been as beautiful in her youth, but her beauty was different from that of his late wife's. No, she resembled her by the look in her eyes, the rather stern tone of her voice, her temperaments even. Turning his head back to the window, Nanjirou wondered if she'd forgive him for becoming so pathetic.

'_Would you_…_?'_ Nanjirou thought silently as he stared at the darkened sky where few stars shined.

-

-

_**Daishoku Restaurant**_

_**Tokyo, Japan**_

_**A week later**_

Yoshiko wondered if she dreamed the encounter with Echizen last week. She doubted her sanity because the man that walked into the same room in the western hall everyday since that night was the same man as the one she had met the first time. He was perverted, a gung-ho joker and a carefree lecher. He was nothing like the man who had almost forced her to drink with him; that sullen man with sad, sad eyes.

"Age is getting to you," Yoshiko muttered to herself as she arranged the tray of appetizers she had to bring to Echizen soon.

"Fuji-san!"

Yoshiko turned at the call of her name. "Manager Sasaki." Yoshiko turned to acknowledge the stumpy, balding guy heading towards her fast. Well, as fast as his short legs were able to carry him. "Is there something wrong?"

"There seems to be," the man said in a snippety voice readjusting his black-framed glasses to give her his best authoritative look. "Masahiro-san mentioned to me that you have been gone for fifteen minutes and _still_ have not returned to Echizen-san's room with the appetizers he ordered."

"It will be there shortly if you'd only give me another few minutes." Yoshiko explained calmly, feeling a little annoyed but showing her best not to; she was used to these impassive masks ever since the hardness of life gotten to her years ago. Pleasing words and smiles were nothing more but a part of her job. "Echizen-san would want the best and not the quickly prepared, right?"

"You'd best be efficient, Fuji-san, or there may not be vacancy here for you. We could always do with _younger_, more efficient workers." the manager merely said and walked off to go pick on someone else. No wonder he didn't get himself a wife and a little wonder why everyone seemed to hate him.

Yoshiko bit back an angry response to herself and turned back to her work. There were times, though rare, when everything just pricked her temper. And _this_ was one of those times. Arching her head a bit she inhaled a bit sharply as the soreness in the back of her neck ached from the movement. The pain had been there for three days now and it was starting to hinder her thoughts and efficiency.

"Fuji-san!" Yoshiko bit back a sigh, wondering if it was just not her day as she turned to face three girls who wore similar frowns on their faces.

"Is there something else Echizen-san needs?" the brunette asked masking her pain and exhaustion from her voice and expression immediately.

"Echizen-san is leaving earlier because he has business to take care of today." the brunette with twin braids said with a pout, "He wants his sake along with his appetizers right away."

"I see…" Yoshiko said moving towards the back room where they kept the sake. "It took three of you to come tell me that?"

"Actually he dismissed us because _someone_ was taking her time in bringing the things he ordered," the black haired one with pretty grey eyes from the back hissed bitterly out as all three bustled out to find other customers to entertain. Apparently, they were pissed off by the fact that _Nanjirou-sama_ preferred the company of a woman far older than them.

Yoshiko fought the urge to sigh again in resignation and didn't say more as she added the sake and rushed towards the western hall. If he was ready to leave early then she'd gladly let him go as quickly as she could as well.

-:- -:- -:- -:- -:-

"I'm sorry for the wait." Yoshiko uttered as she stepped into the room and began setting up the sake as she usually did.

"Mada mada…" Nanjirou merely said as he watched her set up the things he ordered. After a moment of awkward silence, he spoke up again – much to Yoshiko's displeasure. "How long have you been working here?"

The brunette woman glanced up and was met his golden eyes in an awkward moment. Breaking the eye contact quickly, she set herself back into pouring the sake. "It has been about six years now."

"Six, huh?" Nanjirou uttered almost too softly to hear. "It's been a while then…"

"Excuse me?" Yoshiko said with a slight frown. What was he referring to?

Nanjirou glanced back at Yoshiko and attempted to give a teasing grin. "Nothing much. I just thought that you're just a lot more mature than the others."

"That can't be helped. I'm older than they are by far." Yoshiko said offering the sake to Nanjirou with practiced ease. What was this man trying to say? Was he ridiculing her? Well, she wouldn't back out like a meek little girl if that was what he wanted.

"I see," Nanjirou said with a slight nod as he watched her graceful movements as she served him and he didn't say anything else. That was until he saw the look of pain cross her face and the slight imperfection of her usual graceful movements.

"Are you okay?"

"Huh?" she was caught slightly off-guard by the sudden question until he raised an inquiring eyebrow and she caught on. She was sure that no one else would see through her forced perfection though. "I'm alright." Yoshiko said with the best smile she could muster toward Nanjirou.

Despite Nanjirou noting that this was the first time Yoshiko had smiled for him, he moved to her side and reached for her neck.

"Wha—what are you doing?" Yoshiko yelped silently, jerking slightly from his touch; a blush of a woman far younger than her age flushed her cheeks.

"Hold still." Nanjirou said reaching over to massage the base of her neck with his long fingers trying to find where the pain was coming from; experienced from years being a professional athlete that required such expertise, "Just hold still for a bit," Nanjirou muttered softly when he pinpointed the spot by the looks that crossed Yoshiko's face.

Yoshiko quieted down and allowed him to help ease her discomfort. She was surprised that he even had this side to him though it was as awkward as last week. Looking at him now, she was realizing that he wasn't just the noisy pervert who came every week to make her life more difficult than it already was. He was a charismatic man, Yoshiko admitted.

He was actually… _caring_ and attentive. And when he spoke during these times without the joking and teasing tone, he was actually quite attractive. Yoshiko admitted that he was quite handsome for a man of his age, one of the reasons that the girls fawned over him aside for his generosity – one who was seasoned and gave an air of masculine maturity that demanded attention. He was broad shouldered, toned and richly tanned with the finest of crowfeet at the edges of his eyes were only noticeable because of the paler coloration. His dark hair slightly unkempt, long enough to be tied back with a frame of shorter strands.

This apparently younger man kept on surprising her more and more each time. She just couldn't keep up with him. As age ate her youth, it didn't, evidently, eat away her consciousness as a woman. Yoshiko was painfully aware how his masculine hands were large and calloused, different from her late husband's. This man's fingers were definitely more experienced with women, because the way he touched her, though not in any sense sensual, was careful and skilled, gentle and comforting. This situation was uncalled for, yet not rejected.

Biting her bottom lip a bit to hold back a sigh of relief from the pain, Yoshiko continued trying to withhold completely letting down her guard in front of Nanjirou.

"Try to relax a little more…" Nanjirou muttered as he continued to massage her. Yoshiko thought to protest, but gradually her body relaxed itself against his… all caution was tossed out the door.

-:- -:- -:- -:- -:-

Yoshiko eyes fluttered open as she looked about the room trying to distinguish where she was. Her mind was still a bit clouded; she hadn't had such a good sleep in a while.

"Oi, are you awake?"

Eyes widening, she sat up suddenly and glanced over to see Nanjirou still sitting by the window in a casual, almost careless manner while looking at her with the piercing golden eyes; a cigarette was alight in his hands as puff of white smokes escaped his lips.

"Did I…?" Yoshiko immediately shot up as realization dawned on her, causing her eyes to widen in mild terror. "Did I fall asleep on you? I-I'm so sor—!"

Nanjirou let out a small laugh as he looked at flustered Yoshiko who was trying to collect what was left of her dignity and straightened herself. "It's okay. You were exhausted and I let you sleep it off. Is the pain in your neck better?"

"I-ah…" Yoshiko said noting that the pain was indeed gone as she reached up to touch the just recently sore spot, "… It is," she muttered almost in amazement.

"That's good." Nanjirou grinned while standing up with a slight stretch, crushing the burning end of his cigarette on the ashtray. "I best be getting home otherwise my boys will start to nag."

"Th-thank you, Echizen-san." Yoshiko said awkwardly hurriedly as she calm herself into a more presentable position.

The man frowned, "Che! That sounds so formal… and makes me sound so old." Yoshiko noted that his sulking manner was just like a child and fought back a small laugh. "Hee…" the grin was back on his face then, "You look so much better smiling, ne?"

Yoshiko's laughter receded though not her smile; a light blush settled on her cheeks.

"I'm sorry."

"Hey, there's nothing to apologize about! Chill," he waved dismissively, "Just call me Nanjirou. And you are?"

"Fu-Fuji Yoshiko." Yoshiko introduced herself rather nervously; come to think of it, though she knew of his name, he never did knew of her though she had always been the one who poured his last cup of sake. She couldn't find it in her to meet his eyes again and not be mesmerized.

"Yoshiko, huh? So how about loosening up more around me, hn Yoshiko-chan?" Nanjirou said, capturing her stray glance at him with one look. His voice was deep and rumbling. "I'd like it if we weren't so indifferent to each other."

"I…" at first, she was hesitant; after all it sounded a bit improper for a widow to _loosen up_ around a married man. But this man, charming and a little annoying though in a good way, was getting into her good book fast. "I'll try." Yoshiko merely said with a small smile. She couldn't promise that nor deny him of it when he had been so… sweet.

"I'd like it if you do." Nanjirou said with a slight smirk to his smile.

-

-

_**Daishoku Restaurant**_

_**Tokyo, Japan**_

_**Five years later**_

Yoshiko chuckled lightly as Nanjirou recounted the moment his son's won their first match in tennis to her. His eyes lit up in a way that no one else could light when he talked of his two sons; like a buoyant kid in Christmas spirit. Despite his carefree nature, Yoshiko was now, after five years, able to see the kind of man Echizen Nanjirou really was; perverted and noisy and sometimes obnoxious, yes, but still a good man.

What sill puzzled her was the fact that he talked of his sons and tennis every moment, yet he wasn't at home doing the two things he talked about. He was here talking to her as he had for the last five years, fooling around with the other waitresses, and practically just keeping to himself here.

"But those brats are getting good," Nanjirou finished with a slight grin as he stared out the window re-living his son's matches in his mind.

"The why aren't you at home playing tennis matches with them?" Yoshiko inquired. She had, for the last five years, never dug deep into Nanjirou's life. But she felt it was time to do a spot of investigation. They had been confidante for years after all.

"Well, they've grown up now. My oldest is eighteen and my youngest is twelve, and they have their lives." Nanjirou said with a sigh before turning to face Yoshiko again. "You have a daughter that's graduating next year, don't you?"

"Ah, she's engaged to be married sometime in the next few months." Yoshiko answered although her mind was more on the fact that he had skilfully avoided her questions as he had for the last five years.

"Is that so? Well congratulations to her and you then." Nanjirou chirped with a grin, "Your husband would've been happy as well, ne?"

"Very likely," Yoshiko agreed at the mention of her late husband whom she still held dearly in her heart, "He would've been so happy to see her in wedding dress."

"But at least he left you all secure, right? That's what a man should do!" Nanjirou chuckled taking a gulp of his sake. "I wish I had a daughter like that though… it must have been fun." His words were so cryptic and nostalgic and it made Yoshiko felt curious but she smiled nonetheless.

"Aa…"

Despite their friendship of five years, there were some things she didn't mention just as he refused to mention and talk of as well. One of those happened to be the financial standing she was currently in right now. She had no wish for anyone's pity, even if it is Nanjirou—_especially_ Nanjirou's. He had become a good friend and Yoshiko had no wish to add her troubles to what he may already be having and she didn't want him to think that she was taking advantage of that friendship.

"Nanjirou, won't you play tennis with me one day?"

"I thought you didn't know how to play." Nanjirou said with a lift of his brow in surprise at her request.

"Well, you tell me it's so fun so I thought I'd learn." Yoshiko smiled, not wanting and determined not to let the man to drop the conversation this time. "Will you teach me?"

"I-I don't think I'm qualified for that anymore." Nanjirou said trying to laugh it off. "I think I know an instructor at the local sports club that can—"

"But I want _you_ to teach me." Yoshiko insisted not breaking eye contact with him. After five years, the intense eyes that stared into hers had long ago lost its intimidation.

"Yoshiko," Nanjirou started breaking eyes contact as he tried to wriggle his way out as usual.

"Seriously, Nanjirou." Yoshiko said placing a hand on his firmly, "Why are you running from what you love to do? Why are you running from your sons who you love so dearly?"

"I—"

Nanjirou realized that he had no answer for her.

-

-

_**Echizen Residence**_

_**Tokyo, Japan**_

_**7.45 PM**_

"Che. That old man is never home these days," Ryoga muttered as he pulled out a cup from the cabinet to fill with his favourite juice. "Made me wonder what the hell is he up to now."

"Orange juice again?" Ryoma groaned as he walked by his brother to the refrigerator to pull out his usual Grape Ponta.

"Which is so much better than your carbonated crap, thank you very much." the older Echizen shot back before opening the cap and taking his first gulp of his orange juice.

Ryoma merely frowned at his brother's grin but drank his Ponta nonetheless. "Where is he?" the young boy questioned glancing around the empty and rather dark kitchen as he leaned against the counter.

"As you can see, not home as usual." Ryoga shrugged before glancing at his watch with a slight frown. "And I'm getting late,"

"Hn, you two are _never_ home." Quietly, but sharply, the younger boy accused with a hint or loneliness and irritation noticeably in his tone.

"Don't whine, brat." Ryoga said patting Ryoma's head as if comforting a lonely pet. "At least, I'm working my ass off and not wandering off like that good for nothing, pathetic excuse of father of ours."

"You don't even need to work!" Ryoma said with a slight frown, brushing off Ryoga's hand because he didn't want to be treated like a clueless brat. He had been left alone for far too long to be treated like a child. "Oyaji's rich enough, we even have our own credit cards—"

"That's his money brat, not mine. You'll understand when you get older." Ryoga muttered, rinsing out his cup quickly. "It's a man's pride when it comes to supporting himself."

"Whatever." Ryoma muttered watching his brother rush out the door without so much as another word. He was quite used to being left in the huge house by himself every afternoon and night now. His brother had matured from the stubborn, hard-headed brat who Ryoma remembered from the past and was now a heartbreaker, carefree, and even more stubborn older brother. Then again, he himself was not the little boy who used to crave his brother's attention and waddled after him like a duckling following its mother.

Collapsing into a chair, Ryoma wondered what he was going to do today, until his brother and father came home that is. In the end, he opted to go out and head for the game centre as usual.

-:- -:- -:- -:- -:-

Ryoga locked the door and headed down the block in a brisk, set pace towards the local sports club where he worked as an assistant to the tennis coach. He knew his little brother was lonely at home alone but he didn't want to be stuck there either. At times like these, he wondered why his father withdrew from the both of them so much in the last five years. At least back then he had been around and tried to be a mother and father to them. Nowadays he was always somewhere else.

Letting out a sigh, Ryoga figured at the moment he was no better than his old man to Ryoma because he had spent the last three years spending their father's money and hanging out with friends till late at night before finding the job he had now. But it would be soon when Ryoma also found things to do as well.

'_Count it as learning to grow up, little brother.'_ Ryoga thought to himself with a slight smirk before he crossed the street and continued on his way.

-

-

_**Outskirt of Hyoutei Gakuen**_

_**Tokyo, Japan**_

_**Five years later**_

"Hey, you!"

The slender teen slightly turned when someone's hand landed on his shoulder. He had heard the person calling over five times already but hadn't bothered to see if it was for him since there were so many people around.

"You're from Hyotei, right?" the guy asked, heaving a bit heavily from breaking through Tokyo's afternoon rush to reach the teen. Ryoma surveyed his groomed hair to the darkened sunglasses he wore. It made him looked suspicious. Even his slightly wrinkled black suit and loose tie screamed working class male. Why he was calling for high school kids?

The only thought that landed in Ryoma's head that he was a pervert; like his father who oggled cute girls on television and porn magazines when he was home or those fans who came from God knew where and declared undying love for him or the old men trying to feel him up and offered him money.

"I'm not interested in going out with you if that's what you're asking." Ryoma deadpanned out to the guy who looked stunned by that response.

The man managed to laugh a bit, though a little nervously, between trying to catch his breath and shook his head as he removed the sunglasses to reveal amused green eyes. "Ahaha! No, no! I'm not into _that_. Not with high school kids, anyway. But you _are_ from Hyotei, aren't you?"

"Are you blind?" Ryoma bit back, a bit annoyed that he had to deal with this man when he just escaped the teachers and the clingy, noisy girls from school.

"Of course not." the man scoffed out, amused and slightly irritated by the bluntness.

"Then why did you ask what you already know?" Ryoma, who was never one to like beating around the bush, glanced at his plaid pants, white shirt with the Hyotei emblem stitched clearly on, loose red tie round his neck and beige jacket tossed over his shoulder along with his school bag he carried with his left hand.

"Right…" the man trailed, obviously noting the boy's dangerous mood and almost too insolent mouth, "Anyway, what I want to ask is, would you be interested in becoming a model?"

Ryoma raised a slender eyebrow at him. "… A model?" he repeated in an even voice, not missing a beat.

"Yeah! You have that look and that bossy, aloof attitude of yours is just bonus!" the guy said enthusiastically though Ryoma frowned at the description. "If you start modelling now, you can be making lots of money soon with more exposure and I tell you, my company can offer you the right exposure!"

Ryoma stared at the strange man before shutting his eyes and muttered a soft, "Che." as he turned around, heading toward the bike he parked on the parking lot a bit further away from Hyoutei's ground. He never liked the parking ground crowded with fancy cars and bikes.

"W, wait!" the persistent man said running after him, making the moody boy even more pissed off. "This is your chance! One in a life time chance, you know! To become big!"

"And if I don't want to?" the irate teen shot back at the guy who was taken aback that there was actually someone who wasn't tempted by the glamour of that world. He didn't answer as he opened and closed his mouth a couple times trying to find a response. That was all Ryoma needed to keep on walking.

"B-but! Just think about the fame… the _money_!"

Ryoma froze a bit at that.

"_That's his money brat, not mine. You'll understand when you get older. It's a man's pride when it comes to supporting himself."_

The words his brother had adamantly said a few years back drifted to him. Would he know the value of money if it was his own? Would he appreciate it more if it was his? Would it be different? Would he felt what Ryoga did? Could he escape the lonely house and lifestyle he was living right now if he actually had something to do?

"So… what do you say? Just one photo shoot and I'm sure you'll be racking up orders in no time!" the man said enthusiastically, sensing he had Ryoma's attention again.

The boy contemplated the man's words. He seemed to be trustworthy enough, and his words did sound real. "So I can go wherever I want if I become popular?" Ryoma questioned considering the deal now.

He had refused to join the tennis team at Hyotei because he didn't want to be bothered by the sport—or any sport in that matter. He loved tennis, but it reminded him of too much pain. He didn't want to have any lover, because they were all too clingy and he had become too much like his brother for his liking. He didn't have any particular hanging out place either.

But _this_. This might give him something to do and somewhere else to go to after school as well rather than lounging around the huge and empty house counting seconds for his brother and father to return home each night.

The scout chattered excitedly, knowing that Ryoma was interested now. "Of course! Even to America and Europe if you're good enough!"

"Hn. I suppose one photo shoot won't hurt then…" Ryoma decided on the spot. He'd quit if it didn't meet te expectations, no sweat.

"Great! Come with me now to the studio, and your name is—oh, how rude of me! I'm Yoshida Mamoru, nice to meet you!" Mamoru ranted with a rather unnecessarily low bow while handing him a name card.

"Echizen Ryoma." Ryoma stated plainly, accepting and casually inspecting the name card, not bothering to say anything else as he shoved his hands into the pocket of his pants. Without further introduction or conversation, he followed Yoshida to where the company was stationed.

"Yoshida-san?"

Ryoma turned at the same time Yoshida did and came face to face with a black limo whose back window was on its way down to reveal the face of none other than the Atobe Keigo that everyone talked about at school; the mighty king that ruled Hyoutei. Ryoma suppressed a sigh at how this diva of Hyotei and Yoshida-san could be connected and waited patiently, hoping that the two wouldn't involve him in their conversation, which quickly turned into a vain hope.

"Atobe-san!" Yoshida greeted with an enthusiastic bow, "Where are you heading?"

"To see my father at the company of course," Atobe snorted, brushing his pale hair elegantly as if it should be obvious to the human race. Ryoma rolled his eyes; _the monkey lived up to his name._

"Oh, I see! We're heading there as well!" Yoshida said with a nod to Atobe, obviously used to the young master's attitude to bring himself care.

"We?" Atobe said finally glancing past Yoshida to the person behind him, who had averted his face. "Ah, a student from my school, ahn?"

"That he is. And I'm sure that he'll definitely be a big hit with the girls! And _boys_!" Yoshida exclaimed with a wide, almost proud grin.

"Well, obviously he won't have Ore-sama's good looks or charm, but he will do when no one else can even come close." Atobe said looking the familiar looking slender, lissom form. "Although he's a bit short to model, don't you think?"

That did it for Ryoma, he couldn't help himself from retorting. "Che! Ore-sama really does exercise the part of _king_ to its full potential, ne?" Ryoma finally raised his eyes, his tone brazen and careless.

Atobe was taken aback; so it was the infamous brat of Hyoutei after all. Then again, no one else in Hyoutei would be worthy enough to be scouted by Yoshida Mamoru, who was known for his startling upstart and steady success in the field, if not him. He quickly regained his smirk like the young master he was and laced his fingers together.

"What else can you say? That is what Ore-sama is."

"Right. King of _monkey_, that is."

Atobe was ticked as he casually leaned out the window further to get a better look at the person who dared to speak back to him in such a cocky manner. The boy was quite famous in school; unnaturally pretty face, smart, belonging to a well-off though not extravagantly influential family. But still…

"I'm afraid, although we attend the same school, we don't run in the same circles." Atobe's eyes gleamed as he stared back into those defiant eyes.

"That's because I don't run in circles." Ryoma shrugged with a snarky smirk, not in the least intimidated by the King of Hyoutei. "I tend to run my own way."

Atobe let out a short amused chuckle before leaning back into the car. "Tell you what, brat. If you make a name for yourself in the industry in a year, I'll take it upon myself to give you a social life."

A smirk grazed the face of the younger boy, "Just don't be offended when I dominate the industry and refuse your offer then." Ryoma shot back cockily as he turned to walk away calmly. "Are we going or not, Yoshida-san?"

"Hai!" Yoshida called out with a smile before turning back to Atobe and giving him a quick bow. The boy did have a presence after all; and he didn't lose out even when pitched against the one and only Atobe Keigo. "Excuse us then, Atobe-san."

Atobe nodded and watched as Yoshida caught up with the brat, attempting a conversation which turned out to be one-sided.

"Hee, that brat is interesting…" the diva muttered to himself out loud as he rolled up the window with a push and slid his eyes shut. It had been a while since someone boldly challenged to him like that. He liked that look in those eyes. Opening his eyes again; his gaze was intense and glazed over with amusement.

"Ahn, we shall see how far will he climb then."

-:- -:- -:- -:- -:-

It didn't take too long for Ryoma to make it after all.

Debuting under the alias Takeuchi Ryou, the _Snow_ as they nicknamed him, he was an instant hit with the public. His aloof look, strikingly exotic beauty, eloquent sensuality, and unnaturally strong charisma suited the mature yet cold look most photographers adored. Posing was naturally done, his expressions heart-breaking, and Ryoma was so quick to learn that most photographers liked working with him. He was efficient, easy to instruct, and got the job done well and fast.

In the face of a camera, his body would react immediately to fall into the best pose of the angle; straightened back, raised chin, and defiantly sharp eyes—all rolled up in one. Though detached and insolent and arrogant, Ryoma just made himself a character that stood out from the crowd like a sore thumb.

It'd be a few months later that Ryoga and Nanjirou would stumbled across the front of a popular magazine and saw Ryoma, who had been coming home later and later now, on the front page as the fastest rising, most wanted model in years. His face were everywhere; televisions, billboards, magazines, news, practically everywhere. People adored him, whispering his name like a chant or a prayer.

Nanjirou had felt a bit guilty as Ryoma walked in the door and he tried to bring up the modelling business in hopes that Ryoma would tell him about the job more but Ryoma had coolly brushed it off and declared that he was off to New York as soon as he graduated next year. Nanjirou dreaded the next year. Not only was he going to lose his son but Ryoga himself had stated he wanted to do a bit of travelling for the next few years rather than go to college.

He was going to be all alone.

-

-

_**Daishoku Restaurant**_

_**Tokyo, Japan**_

_**A year later**_

Yoshiko sighed as she set the room up for Nanjirou as she usually did every day. Only today, more than Nanjirou's unusual drifting was worrying her, she had bigger problems.

It had been a normal day with Yuuta and Shusuke calling in to tell her they was going out with friends when the doorbell rang and she ran to answer it to discover a dishevelled, tear wrecked Yumiko and her twin children at the door. Akiko and Yusuke carried small suitcases and Yumiko carried two bigger ones. Yoshiko had immediately invited all of them in and the two kids lulled off to sleep within minutes at the sofa while Yumiko sat across the table from her mother later in tears.

"_Kenji and I are getting a divorce mom. I quitted my job before we got married. Can the kids and I stay here with you, at least until I get a new place and a new job?"_

Yoshiko had agreed almost immediately, not thinking of anything else but of her now homeless daughter and grandchildren. She didn't question why they were getting a divorce, she didn't question herself how she was going to feed three more mouths; she just did what her motherly instinct told her to do.

"Something's wrong?"

Yoshiko glanced up to see Nanjirou looking like he usually did these days, lacking sleep with worry and sadness within his eyes. In the twelve years they had known each other, Yoshiko hadn't thought to tell him that she really liked him nor did she mention anything near the subject of "maybe more than friends" to him.

"Yoshiko-chan?"

"I'm fine, just a bit tired." Yoshiko said with a small smile as she moved the sleeve of her yukata and started to pour his sake.

"You do look a bit worried and pale." Nanjirou said with a slight frown. "Perhaps you should've taken the night off."

"I can't… or else how will I feed—" Yoshiko stopped her tired rant. It seemed fatigue and worry had made her forget that she hadn't and wasn't ever planning on telling Nanjirou her financial status.

"Is there something wrong?" Nanjirou immediately latched on to the sign of weakness. "Are you in debt? What about the insurance your husband left?"

"I—"

"You can tell me anything. You know that, Yoshiko." Nanjirou coaxed gently, not wanting the woman to close herself off.

"I really can manage, Nanjirou. I'm just a bit… overwhelmed with everything and…" Yoshiko said forcefully, as she blinked back tears of frustration as she failed to realize she was clenching the sleeve of her yukata so tight, it could rip any second.

"I don't think you can," Nanjirou said pulling Yoshiko into a loose embrace with closed eyes, feeling more than seeing of Yoshiko's widening eyes. "… Tell me everything, Yoshiko. You know you can."

His rough voice had been gentle, so tender. Yoshiko could feel something in her finally crumbled as she clutched on his strong arms; tears stung her eyes and she bit on her lower lips so hard, it hurt. It mattered not that her condition was dishevelled, it mattered not that Nanjirou had nothing to do with her miserable life. She was tired and she needed someone to lean on; someone stronger.

And crying finally, she did. Yoshiko told her story, her struggle, and now her dilemma with Yumiko and her grandchildren. Throughout the tale, Nanjirou doubted Yoshiko realized tears were running freely down her face as she buried her face into his chest and soaking into his shirt which she clung onto as if it was her lifeline. The only thought that ran in Nanjirou's head was how strong she was to put up with her jobs, juggled the life with her kids, and be so selfless.

He wanted to do something for her, anything to help the woman who had listened to his stories and became such a good friend over the years. So Nanjirou said the first thing that popped into his head to solve his loneliness and her problems.

"Yoshiko…" he whispered softly, "I want you to marry me."

-

-

_**Tokyo Daigaku Photography Club**_

_**A few months later**_

_**03.15 PM**_

"Fujikoooo!"

The addressed twenty-one year old brunet raised his face to see a bouncy redhead leaping toward him before the bundle of joy did crashed upon him, with both hands circled around his neck, as the considerably taller and _heavier_ boy jumped off the ground in excitement.

"Fujiko, Fujiko! Have you heard?! Have you? Haaaaaaavvvvvveeeeeee yooooouuuuu?!" Kikumaru squealed as he rubbed his face against Shusuke's neck. Shusuke merely chuckled as he patted on his friend's arm indulgently.

"What is it, Eiji?"

"Nya, nya! I heard from Tezuka-senpai that we're going to have a reaaaallllyyyy special surprise today, nya!" the redhead jibbed with his super fast talking pace, "A _really_ famous someone is going to come today! And I'm sooooo excited!"

"Hai, hai. Demo ne, Eiji…" Shusuke smiled amiably, completely unfazed by the crushing hug. "You shouldn't call me Fuji anymore…"

Kikumaru stared at him before realization dawned to him as he hit a fist against his palm, "Oh! That's right, nya! You're no longer a Fuji, ne Fujiko? Eetoo, but it's so weird to call you with something else…"

The brunet gently chuckled, "Maa, maa… what else can we do?" before he titled his head to one side, "So what's this about this special guest for the day?"

Before Kikumaru could answer, another voice cut in from the side. "He's supposed to be extremely captivating."

"Eh?" Shusuke looked pass Kikumaru's shoulder and saw his slender, teal-haired friend. "Ah, Seiichi-kun! I didn't think you'd show today…"

"And miss the _god_ Atobe sent?" Yukimura returned with a slight teasing smile upon his lips, "You must be joking. Knowing Atobe, he'd generally want everyone to be in awe so he might as well send in _the_ Takeuchi Ryou. If we miss it, then the His Majesty will be very… _upset_."

"True…" the brunet agreed with a smile.

"Ne, ne! Who's that Fujiko?" Kikumaru asked wanting to be part of the conversation.

"Saa, I don't—" Shusuke started before a startled Yukimura cut in.

"You can't not know him!" Yukimura seemed a bit surprised, earning him questioning looks from the two. "There's no one who doesn't know Takeuchi Ryou, the Snow, these days. If you guys don't, then I guess you're the exceptions in that case. Just don't let Atobe know that you guys didn't know his top model."

"… But why would Atobe send his top model all of a sudden?" Kikumaru asked as he tapped on his chin, still feeling a bit lost.

"So we can be awed by his generosity and Tezuka will have no choice but to thank him _personally_ for allowing his dear cousin the privilege of getting to touch and personally photograph Snow—which is a dream come true for any photographer alive." Yukimura chuckled, clearly amused by the way mirth danced in his gentle eyes.

Shusuke joined in with a small laugh on his own, knowing exactly what Yukimura meant, "And speaking about a certain stoic tennis captain's cousin…" he said, throwing a sideway glance towards the door.

"Minna! Gather up please!" Tezuka Mitsuru, a certain stoic tennis captain's very cheerful and very friendly cousin clapped his hands to attract the attention of the photography club in which he was the club president. He had walked in happily and as he looked around the room, he knew everyone was just as excited to see which model they were receiving today.

As the members gathered, amongst them whispering excitedly, he coughed a few times before smiling brilliantly. "Well, my fellow friends! Today I've a piece of veeeeeery good news that I'm sure all of you will love, ne!"

"One would wonder how he's the buchou's cousin, nee…?" Kikumaru whispered with scrunched eyebrows as Shusuke merely chuckled and nodded.

"Anyway! This _friend_ of my cousin's finally agreed to let one of his models pose as our main object for our upcoming contest." Mitsuru chirped as he swung his index finger, "And I assure you that he'll be a wonderful object—_if_ you can get him to cooperate, that is."

"Eh? What does he mean by that?"

"Dunno."

"Who the hell is he talking about anyway?"

"The special guest for today maybe?"

Mitsuru merely smiled as he stepped aside from the door, "Well, anyway, here he is."

The door was opened and someone stepped into the lighting of the photography room. Eyes bulged and mouth agape, every single one of them froze in motion as their eyes zeroed on a fairly tall, slender raven haired boy with strange dark hair and sultry eyes framed by thick, long lashes. He was pale, a bit effeminate. Shusuke couldn't take his eyes of the features; from the slopes of his forehead down to the stroke of his slim and elegant nose, his high and delicate cheekbones, the soft yet defined jaws, and down to his plump, kissable lips.

What disturbed him though, was the penetrating yet indifferent gaze of his golden eyes.

"Everyone, meet Takeuchi Ryou, also known as the Snow!" Mitsuru introduced with a wide, contagious smile and like a switch, excited and dreamy whispers and disbelieving exclamations broke.

"I-it's really him!"

"Kyaaah! I got to have his autograph!"

"He's so hot!"

"I can't believe this! We're soooo lucky!"

Yukimura smiled at the reaction the boy gained just by standing there, doing absolutely nothing. He had that charisma, all right; that unspoken confidence, the restrained passion, and a presence that screamed for total attention. No wonder he had been Atobe's one and foremost favourite over the year.

'_You do have the eyes after all, ne, Keigo…?'_

He was amused though, as he observed the various reactions, ranging from shock to awe to disbelief and jealousy and even lust, when his eyes fell upon the form and face of Shusuke—unlike the enthusiastic Kikumaru—was staring at the model with _different_ eyes.

Sexual desire and sensual appraisal were things usually easy to associate with a model like Takeuchi Ryou, but Yukimura didn't think that Shusuke would be one to be impressed by good looks no matter what. The tensai was, after all, someone who was easily bored. Something about this boy must have caught the tensai's eyes.

'_Saa… isn't this interesting…?' _Yukimura giggled to himself privately, staring at the quiet model once more. _'Atobe… what kind of disaster have you sent to us now…?'_

It was after the chaos was subdued that the model talked for the first time, "Well, let's get this over with quick." as he spoke, he yawned and stretched; knowing but uncaring about the fact that the little action earned him a spontaneous attention for his black shirt rode up high enough to expose enough tantalizing smooth, pale flesh and the low slung pants that hugged his curvy waist.

Shusuke's eyes gleamed dangerously as he took in the delicious sight. Unconsciously, his tongue darted out to lick on his lips; he looked like a predator locking on his prey. He knew he wasn't the only one, but he wasn't about to let others getting ahead of him either. He was the tensai for not just the name.

The boy didn't seem to notice the stares, or he was ignoring them if he did anyway. He turned to Mitsuru and spoke again, "So, what do you want me to change into?" he lowered his arms with a soft sigh as one of his hands sneaked to rub his slightly stiff neck, while shoving the other into the pocket of his pants. He really wanted to wrap this off quick—damn that monkey for making him do this—and go straight home.

He just wasn't expecting Mitsuru's smile to change a little bit; being a model over the year taught him how to read through people's masks pretty well.

"Why!" he beamed innocently as he clapped his hands together, "Nothing, in fact. We're doing nude photos today. So, can you please start stripping, Ryou-kun?"

* * *

**End Note :** And there's the prologue chapter! And kyaaa, 26 pages for the starter…! Because this is kind of rushed, it turned out that way. We hope you don't mind and review anyway. The time in between is generally how Yoshiko and Nanjirou got together. As to why Ryoma is referred as Takeuchi Ryou will be explained in the next chapter.


	2. In Japan Where the Summer Scorns

**WHEN FUJI BECAME AN ECHIZEN**

_Written by Playgirl Eugene and MoonExpressions_

**Author's Note :** Actually, reviews stated that with Playgirl's vivid description and Moon's strong OCs and twists, this story can be big. But the usual mind games are not all that we're trying to do. Moon's giving her all for her endless creativity, lovely intricateness, and seductive naughtiness that's so her. And Gene's also to give beautiful literacy, indulging emotions, and powerful plots. We hope that you all will enjoy this story and review and rebuild the Thrill Pair fandom!

**Standard Disclaimer :** The original Prince of Tennis and all of the characters, including the original plot, belong solely to Konomi Takeshi-sensei. The both of us own nothing of it and we do not earn any profit from this. This disclaimer stands firm for the whole of the story. Furthermore, if we use any material that needs to be disclaimed, there will be individual credit where due.

**Warning(s) :** In the future, depending on the readers' request, this fic might contain excessive, uncensored sexual themes; including sex between males, masturbation, foul languages, and similar traits.

**Summary :** What will happen when the Fuji family becomes a part of the crazy Echizen family? Especially when you throw in a one-night stand, attraction, and the promise to dominate the "new" sibling.

**Setting and Timeline :** Unrelated to the original setting and timeline since this is technically an AU story.

**Character Setting :** Nanjirou (43), Yoshiko (49), Ryoma (19), Shusuke (21), Yuuta (20), Yumiko/Nanako (30), Ryoga (25)

**Chapter Details : **None in particular.

* * *

Chapter 01

"In Japan Where the Summer Scorns"

* * *

_**Daishoku Restaurant**_

_**Tokyo, Japan**_

_**6.40 PM**_

"_Yoshiko… I want you to marry me."_

Yoshiko's eyes widened. Wrenching out of the platonic embrace, while not loosening the hold she had on his sleeves, she stared up at the face of her best friend for years with bewilderment, a heart-wrenching honesty in her open expression, and hesitant perplexity. She wasn't quite sure that she heard what she heard.

It just _couldn't_ be.

"Now, don't… don't freak out!" the brunet man added hastily, "Umm, _yet_!"

Nanjirou, sensing her sudden stillness in his arms, felt far more flustered than he had when that crazy idea crashed his brain and his loud mouth blurted everything out before his common sense could even process the logic. What was done was already done and he couldn't just undo what he said or shrug it off by claiming that it was a lame joke. People didn't joke like _that_, especially not when you were a man in the face of a struggling widow that had just poured her heart out like there was no tomorrow.

But the truth remained that he took one look on that face, filled with deep lines of fatigue and with eyes weary of life and its harshness, he made up his mind. He wanted to get through this with her by his side. His sons were going to _kill_ him, even the ever apathetic Ryoga – _especially_ Ryoga, since the older of his sons was more emotional than the younger – if, and when they ever found out he was doing something like this without consulting the two of them first. They were bound to know, after all.

Nanjirou didn't even want to think of where this new incident was going to place the already sour relationship between his sons and himself. It had been years since they gathered to talk civilly and could physically show they loved and cared for each other; it was simply too gauche now days—both with his sons growing up and his clumsy affection.

These days, Ryoga was rarely at home anymore. If he wasn't working, he was clubbing and hanging out with his band of friends that Nanjirou didn't really approve but had not dared to object outright. It had been that way ever since Ryoga entered high school and hit sixteen of age. The rebellious stage had started from then and Nanjirou wasn't exactly a mother material enough to be strict on Ryoga either. Instead he bided his time around with his youngest and when his youngest showed signs of withdrawal from him as well, he found comfort in Daishoku restaurant with the free-spirited, cheerful waitresses and Yoshiko.

But it had been years of him looking the other way and letting his sons do as they please that triggered Ryoma leaving a little over a year ago.

The youngest Echizen took after his brother suddenly and started returning home late during his last year of high school. Nanjirou believed it was another repeat of Ryoga's mannerism when he was at that stage and didn't worry too much about it although there were nights Ryoma returned even later than the two older Echizen did.

He didn't ask why and Ryoga didn't bother either. After all, Ryoma was a growing boy, and he needed space and privacy as they did as well… or so they thought.

On the occasions he did come home and Nanjirou spotted him, he never spoke more than necessary and went to his room, locking it from inside. Sometimes, Nanjirou would purposely wait for his son; something he did to remind himself that he was still a father of two, something insignificant but he felt as if doing it would give him some false sense of comfort. Should the Echizen patriarch didn't announce his presence and when the lights were off, the youngest of the family would never turn on the lights and quietly headed straight to his room. The next morning, he already left for school before Nanjirou could even see his face, let alone to _talk_ to him.

He couldn't really say how he felt when he found out his son took on modelling without even counselling or informing him, and the short, abrupt conversations or quiet answers turned to mere silence or a one worded responses.

Ryoma wasn't being _young_ and _impulsive_, Nanjirou found out. He was being _mature_, much to their surprise.

He woke earlier and got back late making Nanjirou feel that they were more like strangers sharing the same roof compared to father and son.

Looking back at it now, he felt empty that he never even knew of Ryoma's part-timing before Ryoga choked on his orange juice when he stumbled upon the teen's picture on the front cover and main pages of a famous fashion magazine while flippantly flipping through them in his boredom feats one day. He had been shocked initially as both his older son and he tried to make sense of the pictures in front of him, then a deep regret hit him as he realized he was beginning to have no part in his children's life. He knew nothing of what Ryoga was doing even though he had already graduated and now he wasn't even a part of society to know his son was a rising star.

When asked of his job, Ryoma merely shrugged with his typical 'hn' and offered no further explanation. His son really had a way with word. Every conversation Nanjiroh tried to engage with him to coax something more monosyllabic answers, Ryoma dissuaded almost irritably. It was then Nanjirou realized how his little boy had grown so much without him realizing. How he had grown, lacking the love he should've had. Lacking what Rinko, his dear late wife, would've wanted him to experience and given. The deepest part of his hurt was the fact that he had promised Rinko to look after their sons, but he had _failed_ her spectacularly, and so did his sons.

He had retreated to his own despairs and insecurities that he had forgotten about the two that depended on him to keep smiling and loving them; he was _that_ afraid of facing the reality of growing up and separation. Gradually updates of his son weren't from his son at all but through magazines and television clips of popularity.

He realized, despite having a face like Rinko, Ryoma never really did remind him of his wife, because unlike her, Ryoma never _smiled_. Not those commercial smiles plastered on every each of this nation and the next continent that he sold for millions, but that one, sincere smile. The quiet, seductive smile that had everyone swooning and crawling at his feet simply served as a reminder Nanjirou of his failure for not being a father enough for the boy.

"_I'll be going to New York in a week."_

One afternoon in a scorching summer sometime after his 18th birthday, the line was all he said to his father and brother before. He had stood dressed in designer attires, leaning by the doorway to the living room as two anonymous men moved empty boxes upstairs to his room. Those clothes he wore after he became a model was not even ones that the old Ryoma would consider wearing before; he never really noticed, but his son's appearance changed too drastically over the year.

His hair was longer, his skin paler with the lack of outdoor activities, and he was simply much, much more stylish.

He _changed_. He _grew up_, and Nanjirou ashamedly couldn't keep up with his pace.

"Whatever, brat…" Ryoga merely called out as he continued flipping through channels on the TV while Nanjiroh found himself speechless at the abrupt announcement. Before he could even answer, Ryoma was gone form the doorway and ordering the two men where to place his moving equipments.

Exactly six days and a half later, Nanjirou got back only to find Ryoma's neatly packed suitcases and his boxed items gone. The room he had occupied was empty save for the desk, chest of drawers, empty bookcase, and the bed neatly made. His youngest son had left home to live by himself and no longer depending on him, with no promise of coming back and not a single note left behind in his wake.

But even with the risk of further damaging his relationship with the boys, he'd take this chance. He'd risk everything; hoping that this impulsive decision he made was the right one to give his dysfunctional family a second chance to repair what they had never nurtured out of fear of losing, what they'd lost because of _his_ cowardice. He wanted his family to once again become whole, but he was powerless to do that by himself; he was a man of outspoken words and a vulgar to boots, he didn't understand the role of being a much needed "mother" figure enough. So… perhaps, just maybe this would be what he needed to bring the family together. It was his last gamble, all or nothing… _right now_.

"I-it's not like… I'm pitying you or doing this out of some petty reason like that…" he stuttered, scratching behind his head awkwardly, "I-I mean… of course, I did sympathize. But you're a very… umm, strong woman, Yoshiko. I didn't think that you'd appreciate such thoughts… err, sexist issues aside… what am I saying?"

Yoshiko blinked. She was trying to process what Nanjirou was saying. It made some _sense_, but it was just wasn't enough common value in the said senses. They way he stuttered his explanation and such wasn't helping to convince her that his earlier lines were done without the feeling of pity.

"What I'm trying to say is… let me help you, Yoshiko." the former athlete said with sudden resolve, "Let me help you, and myself along with it. I know that, together, we can."

The silence that followed in stillness was one of the most uncomfortable situations Nanjirou ever found himself to be in. Facing the world's top tennis player in a Grand Slam final was nothing compared to this; his mind wandered back to the time when he proposed Rinko and cringed.

_That_ was one of his worst moments. How did Rinko ever felt prompted to accept it anyway, now that he thought about it?

Not receiving any reaction and feeling the tense atmosphere built up with every passing second, Nanjirou gently shook the older woman.

"Yo-Yoshiko…?"

Startled out of her stupor, the brunette woman averted her doe eyes with blatant edginess, "Nanjirou, I don't… I don't think you know what you're doing." Yoshiko murmured quietly, trying to avoid those golden eyes locked on her. "You're not… thinking clearly and—"

Another awkward silence came between the two; the silence was suffocating, nervous, and fragile.

Then, suddenly, Nanjirou laughed – albeit it was an awkward one and raised his hand to scratch the back of his head with a goofy grin on his face. "Aa-ahaha… I, I guess you're right. Forget what I just said, I'm just spouting nonsense anyway!" He plastered a goofy grin that seemed to be out of place.

Yoshiko couldn't help but feel relieved, but a _little_ hurt at that. She had sincerely hoped he was going to just wave it all up but it seemed that when he did, she couldn't help but longed a little for that offer; a moment of guilt and now a total withdrawal. Nanjirou was sincere, she knew. But it just didn't work out that way.

Did it?

But even through her own pain, she couldn't help but feel slightly bothered about what he had said about helping himself along with her problem.

As she poured the last cup of sake for Nanjirou, both avoiding the other's gaze while stealing glances like a couple of shy high school students without the usual chatter filling the air, Yoshiko pondered about something.

_What was troubling him?_

-:- -:- -:- -:- -:-

It had been days since she last saw Nanjirou after that incident. She couldn't help but feel like the man was avoiding her because he never asked her to pour his sake again like usual and she hadn't been able to work out enough courage to approach him without his first move. But considering what had happened, she thought that the two of them needed some space.

Alone. To think.

About everything.

God.

This was starting to get much too complicated for her.

But it sure didn't help her feeling a little lonely with the loss of her usually boisterous friend. Usually, Nanjirou would entertain her and ease her troubles with his lame jokes and flirtatious mannerisms. How, oh how had she came to be ever so used to his presence and never realizing it before?

A few days without him suddenly seemed to be far too lonely… and cold. No, she didn't believe that she loved the brunet man in that way and was sure the feeling was mutual. There was affection, fondness, and love in a jumbled mix like a myriad of emotions, though they lacked in passion. It was the kind that grew from togetherness, a need to protect, time, mutuality, and understanding. They were no longer young, believing that they still held love for their late respective partners in life.

She was lost in her thoughts, immersed in her ponders as she stood in the kitchen while wiping an already dried tray, when she heard her name called rather furiously from somewhere behind her and it effectively jostled her out of the said reverie. Turning around, she saw a tousled looking Yamazaki Maya running toward her with an flustered expression on her small, pretty face and teary, red eyes.

Yamazaki had been one of the prettiest girls in Daishoku with her shoulder length brown hair, her wide, doe coloured eyes, and her cherry red lips. She never talked to her more than necessary before, considering their age difference and everything else, but now the girl came with a furious expression twisting her face; her trembling lips pressed into a thin line and her eyebrows scrunched together tightly as her fists clenched.

"You! It must have been something _you_ did, Fuji-san! I'm sure of it!" Yamazaki indicted as she pointed an accusing finger at the older woman, two of her friends trying to placate her to no anvil. She seemed to be quite frustrated since her eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

Surprised of the sudden accusation out of the blue, Yoshiko couldn't help but expressed her confusion in both expression and literary.

"You must have said… or, or _did_ something to him! That's why _he_ didn't come here anymore! Isn't it?! You! Tell me—!" Yamazaki yelled disjointedly, her words not making enough sense to Yoshiko to comprehend immediately. "What did you say to him?!" she screeched again, struggling against the two other women holding her arms each in a restraining grip from launching herself at Fuji matriarch.

"Umm… m-may I…" Yoshiko started hesitantly, unsure of what to say at the emotional display when the petite looking brunette finally slouched weakly while leaning against the one of her friends. She was accused of something she didn't know and it had seriously offended the young woman to land her in such a distress. The problem was, she didn't remember what she did. "May I know… what is wrong?"

Nanami, a calm redhead, was the one who spoke. "Nanjirou-sama never comes anymore." Nanami answered in the stead of Yamazaki, who was starting to sob quietly beside her, as the taller woman patted on the girl's thin shoulder. "Maya-chan assumed that it has something to do with you since… well, you're his favourite attendant and you're the last to see him before he went missing… for nearly two weeks and a half now."

Suzuki added to her explanation, "And he never missed coming here for more than a week since the last five years, so we thought…"

Understanding dawned to the brunette Fuji. Yoshiko turned her eyes once again to Yamazaki. Yoshiko knew that Nanjirou often spoiled her with small gifts and praises because she was like a daughter he never had. Nanjirou once confided to her, because she was around Ryoga's age and had the similar temperament with Nanjirou's nephew turned adopted son. She reminded him of a son who distanced himself from his father.

Though at first Yoshiko also thought that Nanjirou had some kind of indecent motives on the young woman that she disapproved with not too mild distaste, but her long standing and deep friendship with the brunet man had changed that opinion. Flirtatious and lecherous as he came across to be, the former athlete never did anything insolent towards her nor any of the waitresses.

This young woman, however, seemed to perceive his intentions quite differently. She apparently harboured a different kind of affection for the older man who suited more as her father more than anything else; she was infatuated by his generosity. Yoshiko thought that Nanjirou was aware of it. She was sure that the former athlete must have his fair share of women before his marriage and caught the much too feminine gestures Yamazaki emitted. The way she shyly glanced at him, her tone of giggles, and the way she moved – it was more than a few times where he'd look at Yoshiko's way with pleading eyes to get him out of a situation.

Nanami and Suzuki bowed slightly to Yoshiko and apologized for her friend's hysteric condition before leading her away from the older woman, all the while trying to comfort the sobbing girl. Even as they left her in the corridor, Yoshiko never noticed though. Her mind wandered as she stared at her own geta, her hands fisting her striped yukata.

'_Nanjirou…'_

Flashes of her friend's almost childish grin, the way his eyes lit up when he was excited each time he talked about his sons, his flirtatious mannerism when he wriggled his eyes at young girls, the kindness behind his foolish façade, his calloused fingers and rough, boisterous voice, his quiet strength and hidden pain of his past that he attempted to conceal with his cheerfulness though he was hurting inside, the way he actually cared about a widow like her without minding what other might thought of his association with her, and his wordless acceptance…

He was a man very different from that of her husband. The former patriarch of the Fuji family had always been a serious, uptight man who was both hardworking and dependable who worked seventy-hours a week and sometimes came home for dinner. Discipline as he was, he'd play golf with his clients on weekends and sometimes went out for some drinks with his colleagues.

But all in all, her late husband was everything Nanjirou was not. And Nanjirou was everything her husband wasn't either. She never imagined herself getting along with someone as laidback and carefree, yet unpredictable, like the former tennis pro because she liked to believe that she herself was an organized woman by nature.

But… but…

Closing her eyes, she felt something swelling inside her chest.

Opening her eyes, a flash of determination and resolution flashed her usually calm eyes and then, Yoshiko did something she never did or ever imagined before.

"Fuji-san? Fuji-san, where have you been?! The guests are—!" Manager Sasaki appeared from the end of the hallway, looking irritated as he approached the pensive woman lost in her thoughts.

"Fuji-san, what are you…?" the old man was about to tap on Yoshiko's shoulder when suddenly the brunette whirled around and startled him. She shoved the tray she was holding into his hands, which he accepted instinctively, and looked into his beady eyes with a dogged look.

"I'm going out." she grounded out bluntly.

"_What__?!"_ Sasaki was shocked and confused as he stared at the woman, before he looked down on the tray, and again at Yoshiko who already took off as fast as her geta and yukata clad figure could carry her, while ignoring Sasaki's protests and threats in various level.

She was gambling, she knew. But she'd take that chance. It was about time for her to; she had spent way too much time holding on to the past and keeping up an appearance as a wife left by her husband. Was it too selfish to do as she pleases once in a while?

She couldn't bring herself to really care.

-:- -:- -:- -:- -:-

If the situation wasn't so awkward, Yoshiko would've laughed at the whole irony of the situation. To think that about eleven years ago, back when she first saw this lecherous man between the flocking girls, she had been the one to go through measures to avoid this man she was now desperately trying to hold up now.

She wasn't even all clear about how she ended up at Nanjirou's doorstep when she had never seen the house before. She had merely remembered Nanjirou telling her a bit of the neighbourhood and a small description of the house. It was an elite neighbourhood, as to be expected from a former world class athlete.

Of course, Nanjirou once mentioned about his wife being a famous attorney in America who was paid quite a handsome amount per hour. He never spoke more of her though, because it seemed to bring him so much pain of longing, even after eleven years. As a woman, she respected Nanjirou while both congratulating and envying slightly of her best friend's lady love. The house was large and quite posh, even when it was lacking greatly in woman's touch. It seemed almost too… _lonely_.

Now here she was slightly trembling as she reached to press the buzzer for the door. A million thoughts raced through her head, including the fact that she could've mistaken the house yet still a part of her mind held firm to press the button. Inhaling a quick breath of courage, she pushed the button slightly and was shaken as the door swung open quite suddenly and she was faced with an extremely weary looking Nanjirou who looked like he hadn't shaved for days. She saw him stiffen and his expression change to uncertainty as he tried to withdraw and shut the gate once more.

"Wait, Nanjirou! Why are you avoiding me?" Yoshiko protested, finding her voice as she stopped him from shutting her out by holding the door and sliding in before Nanjirou managed to find the strength that would surely overpowered hers.

"I-I'm not avoiding you!" Nanjirou said a bit quickly as he headed with a brisk pace towards the front door to avoid looking at Yoshiko. He had stayed away because he hadn't wanted to be face with this confrontation after his silly proposal and now he was going to have to face it anyways.

"Liar!" Yoshiko said trying to keep up with his brisk walk. Whatever dialogue she had planned on before flew from her head as she saw Nanjirou's exhausted form for the first time like this – she hadn't been the only one who was tired. Yet, Nanjirou had been her pillar of support for years, wordlessly as he did. And then she realized; she never did anything for her friend, did she?

Giving up, she stood watching him continue on; tears welling up in her doe eyes as she did.

"Why me?!" she blurted out in a desperate voice, "God, Nanjirou, answer me… _why me?_ I-I need to know…" Yoshiko sobbed softly, her voice was trembling and her hands were shaking with emotions. "Why me? Why this widow with three children? I'm almost fifty… Nanjirou, I'm six years older than you, for God's sake! Why did you ask me that?"

Nanjirou paused in motion. Slowly he turned around and felt slightly torn between comforting her and admonishing her for even thinking that he'd judge her by age and status of a widow with three children. He swallowed as she slowly made her way towards him tearfully until the stood there no more than a feet wide distance from one another.

"Please, I can't lose you…" Yoshiko had her face cast down as she sobbed before she walked up to him and suddenly gripped the shirt Nanjirou was wearing with her thin, trembling hands almost desperately. Nanjirou smiled despite himself and hesitantly, bringing his arms up to hug and comfort the brunette. He was never good with comforting people, but he patted on her small back encouragingly just the same. If he was going to make a change, now would be the time to start as well.

Clinging to the taller man and feeling far more secured in years after her husband's death, the memory of hardship and coping and her children's future, she made up her mind. Then again, she supposed she made up her mind the moment she came to look for him; something she should've done long ago.

It was almost too late. But it wasn't too late; it almost seemed as if God decided to pity her for a chance and gave her a second chance to fix everything, and she'd be damned if she screwed it up again.

-

-

_**Fuji's Household**_

_**Tokyo, Japan**_

_**Two days later**_

It was a little after dinner time that Yoshiko managed to actually speak and gathered her children to the small, make do dining room adjacent to the living room where Yusuke and Akiko were drawing right now. Apparently, her perceptive children had noticed her jumpy, rather quiet – almost _too quiet_ – mannerism that night; even the gullible Yuuta noted the way she was tense and anxious throughout the whole dinner. The matriarch had been acting rather strange and it was troubling them.

"There's something… I want to discuss with the three of you…" she spoke cautiously, quietly. Wanting to drop the bomb as gently as possible, if that was even possible that is. Yoshiko appeared to be deadly serious that all three of them felt an uneasy sensation building up in and tightening their stomach, stiffening their back.

"What is it, okaa-san?" Shusuke was the one to break the tense silence. He figured he should be the one to continue the conversation since Yuuta and Yumiko were still dealing with the adjustment that their sweet mother wanted to talk and looking as if she was about to reveal that the world was ending tomorrow – which he hoped wasn't because his mother _looked_ as if it was going to.

It took Yoshiko a full minute to herself before she patted herself on the back mentally and finally breathed out, "… Tell me honestly, what do you think of me getting married again?" Yoshiko said, congratulating herself for not stuttering and not choking on her own words while looking from her oldest to youngest child, trying to gauge their reaction while uncertainly clenching her own hands in her own insecurity at this big step.

As expected, there was a phase of complete, leaping silence answering her statement. She bit back the urge to be frantic as she patiently waited for their opinions on the matter while chewing nervously on her lips.

Then she heard Yuuta making a small, nervous chuckle. "Okaa-san, d-don't joke around like that—"

"I'd rather be doing something else than gathering you all here just for the amusement of such a joke now, wouldn't you think?" Yoshiko said scanning their faces again with narrowed eyes, her voice a little sterner than before.

"At your age?!" Yuuta screamed, looking as if he couldn't find the right words to express his denial. "Okaa-san, you can't be serious! A woman of your age remarrying is—is—"

"I think you should've done it years ago." Yumiko finally spoke up calmly, interrupting Yuuta's tirade.

"Onee-san!" Yuuta looked her way incredulously, not believing the oldest child of the Fuji family saying it so easily. He had always believed that both his sister and mother were women of logic and traditions; he'd never thought of his mother even _mentioning_ the thought of remarrying at _this_ age and his sister agreeing so flippantly as if they were deciding on a dinner theme.

"Yumiko?" Yoshiko looked her way; both relieved of Yumiko's approval – one she was worried about the most, considering the strength of their bond, Yumiko's position as her oldest daughter, and her disposition as a woman who had just recently divorced – and a bit startled of her immediate, ready acceptance of the situation.

"I approve of it." Yumiko nodded, smiling at her mother. It was surprising and to be honest, she was a little unprepared. She had thought that her mother would never even breach the subject. But at the same time, she was… _glad_ that her mother finally founded a way to move on from her years of mourning.

_They_ could finally move on, at last and end this vicious cycle of endless bad luck.

"You can't be serious! This is crazy!" Yuuta suddenly stood up, slamming his palms against the wooden surface of the table and nearly toppling his stool at the same time, "Okaa-san is already—I mean, she—"

Yumiko turned to face her youngest brother and her hazel eyes narrowed in mild admonishment. "For a woman with children to live without a man supporting her is difficult, Yuuta. You've seen how mother struggle to feed us when we weren't able to do anything else." Yumiko's eyes darted toward the living room, where Akiko and Yusuke were giggling as they doodled on pieces of papers using crayons. Her eyes softened maternally, "You're still young, Yuuta. You wouldn't understand."

Yuuta flabbergasted, unable to return her argument; well, that was _not_ fair.

"Onee-san…"

"The both of you were still too young at that time, but I was old enough to understand how much okaa-san loved otou-san. I know how much the death of otou-san effected her." she subtly ignored how Yoshiko stiffened and flinched on the side at the mere mention of that horrible incident so many years ago. "I know she's been avoiding this issue because the memory of otou-san that okaa-san wanted to preserve, but reality isn't so kind now, is it?"

Shusuke, despite the smile, saw how Yumiko's eyes told so much more than that. Surge of hatred for that man who once promised his sister so much happiness that turned out to be one big bastard surfaced. He didn't really understand what happened, but all he needed to know was the fact that his sister was hurt because of it.

Shaking his head, his mind pondered the current situation. Despite her mother's serious but unassuming tone, his mother's nervousness behind her words told him she honestly wanted them to accept her decision – the almost pleading look in her eyes spoke of volume and he knew that this meant a lot to her. He just couldn't say no, he knew it'd hurt his mother and that was the last thing he'd want.

After everything she sacrificed for _them_, after being so selfless for so long, tolerating everything from scorns to sneers from those around them, it was about time they gave something back in return. All his mother ever asked was a simple 'yes', and he was sure that his mother had thought about it thoroughly before asking them. Fuji Yoshiko was simply _that_ kind of woman. After all that she did for them, Shusuke hardly thought that this was something too much to ask for.

"I don't think okaa-san would do something like this without thinking about everything carefully. I want to believe in her, like I've always did ever since she gave up her life for us."

"Yumiko…" Yoshiko noticed how crestfallen her vigilant daughter looked, knowing that she was reminiscing her pathetic excuse of an ex-husband; regret and grief rolling off her in gentle waves. Her words touched her.

Yumiko averted her face once more and beamed at Yoshiko wearily as she shrugged, "A divorce breaks a woman at first. But then, it then, it makes them stronger than ever."

Yoshiko couldn't help but smiled. Her daughter was indeed a strong woman; stronger that she could ever hoped herself to be and ever believed to be.

"I'm fine with whatever okaa-san decides, onee-san." Shusuke smiled as he titled his head to one side, surprising the three and pulling all the attention to himself. Obviously, the look Yuuta gave noted his disappointment. He was his last resort, last chance of support to his objection and Shusuke, for once, didn't give in to Yuuta's whim.

It was like that in the Fuji family; how many voices against how many.

"As long as she's happy… then I shall not be one to hinder her happiness. She deserves that much." the brunet tensai smiled amiably with a nod.

"Shusuke…" the oldest woman in the room couldn't help the wave of happiness rolling off her at his gentle approval. Although she was a little sad about Yuuta's abrupt rejection, she was glad that Shusuke understood.

Yuuta was at lots of words for a few minutes as they looked at him, waiting for his answer expectantly. He gritted on his teeth and threw his hands up in the air, "Fine! Do whatever you like!" he finally barked, turning to leave the room. "See if I care!"

Yoshiko stood up when she saw Yuuta's retreating back and was about to chase after him to splutter her apologize when Yumiko stopped her. She was not used to having her children at odds with her.

"Leave him be, okaa-san. He needs his own space to think and he needs to grow up." Yumiko said with composed tone, "He can't stay like a baby forever."

Yoshiko looked lost for a moment, torn between sitting down and staring at where she last saw her youngest son's back. Finally, she sat again. Sighing wearily, she took her mug and sipped her green tea – she needed that.

It wasn't like she was expecting everything would go smoothly and full of warm acceptance, there was bound to be hindrance in a matter as sensitive as this. But still, Yuuta's blatant rejection hurt her because she felt as if she had disappointed him as a mother and she _had_ hoped that none of this to happen.

Yumiko now turned her attention to the oldest boy of the family, "Shusuke, what made you approve of this so quickly?" she asked, earning a few minutes pause from the brunet; she knew best that her older otouto was a voice of reason. Young as he was, Shusuke was far wiser than his age proposed him to be. His acceptance didn't surprise her that much, but it piqued her curiosity nonetheless.

Shusuke didn't answer immediately this time, as he took his time to think of the best way to express his thoughts. "Like you've said, onee-san, Yuuta and I never knew otou-san." the brunet looked down on his mug of green tea with calm blue eyes, "Perhaps it's a bit cold saying this, but I'm not onee-san or you, okaa-san. I never had the chance to know and actually _love_ this man we called _otou-san_."

The older women widened their eyes at his words.

"… Unlike Yuuta, I can't bring myself to appreciate sentimental thoughts more than the reality. I know that he's my father and by nature, I came to love him like any other children would." the smile turned a bit weaker, "But I only know him from stories and pictures. As much as I wanted to believe that he loved us, he was never there. It's unfair for me to say that because otou-san passed away in an accident, but he was never once there when I wanted him to be. And as a child, I felt a bit… sad." he paused, taking a sip of his tea before continuing again. "We never really had time to nurture that bond and ashamed as I am to say this, I did not feel less… compelled to let the memory of otou-san take away okaa-san's life nor do I really long the figure of a father. I'm happy enough with just you, onee-san, and Yuuta… okaa-san…"

Both Yoshiko and Yumiko couldn't help but feel a bit sad. The sweet Shusuke actually thought that way of the matter; just how much broken he was inside that he didn't show? That neither of them was aware of?

"But if this man of okaa-san's choice can make her life easier, if this is what must be done to make her smile again, I'll give my consent." Shusuke continued with a usual smile now, "I'd willingly accept him for okaa-san."

To be said that she was taken aback was true. She had known of the fact that her second brother was by far more mature compared to boys of his age and that the so-called tensai had always been a pliant and an unassuming character; one that approached and handled situations with a levelled mind. But the way that he calmly received and accepted this sudden and unexpected news were out of her imagination.

"You're so mature, Shusuke." Yumiko said with a gentle smile as she shut her eyes, leaning back on her stool as she crossed her arms. "… I just hope that Yuuta would look it through your eyes soon enough, before any further damage is done."

Yoshiko and Shusuke nodded, knowing exactly what she meant.

-

-

_**Alexandria Hotel Ballroom**_

_**New York, America**_

_**11.00 AM**_

"Within the first few days of its release, almost a million copies of your newest photo collection book have already been sold and it is currently sitting on the top of the charts! What do you think of that, Snow-san?"

"Hee," a stifled yawn was heard instead.

"It is said that you will once again reigned as the _Most Wanted Model_ this year, securing your second time in the running for that title! Do you think so as well?" asked a random entertainment news reporter.

"Maybe." he answered with a clipped tone.

"Snow-san, is it true that you will be the new icon of _Shiraishi __Ayane_ signature brand for the upcoming autumn and winter collection?" the prim, petite reporter lifted her face to the raven haired young model sitting next to his photographer and fellow models lined up by the long table on the podium and her painted red lips curled into a sweet smile.

"Hn." Echizen Ryoma replied casually while leaning back against the chair, his face nonchalant and never once did he turned to the reporter. He was actually trying his best not to look bored already since his manager would nag if he did. Not that the manager wasn't already going to nag him about this expression. He could already imagine Yoshida's pout – yes, the man could be _that_ overbearing at times – and his manager's melodrama later.

The reporter didn't seem to be discouraged by the least. After all, the golden eyed model was famous for his indifference, one of the traits that made him all the more desirable. "I see… I'm sure your fans will be very excited with the new revelation!" she commented charmingly, never giving up turning her feminine allure on Ryoma – who didn't _care_.

Ryoma leaned forward and propped his chin on his hand, his eyes showing no concern whatsoever, "Aa…"

"Snow-san, do you have a comment or two about the latest rumour about something going on between you and the new singer in your trade of the uprising _Augustine_, Chris?"

Ryoma shrugged, "No comment."

The reporter frowned at the monotone, equally monosyllabic answers. This was getting really old fast. "But the rumours have it that Chris' latest song and one of his most popular pieces, _'Forever in Love'_, was inspired by his admiration for you, Snow-san! Even his lyrics are dedicated for you!"

Golden eyes zeroed on her for the first time and she was startled with the alertness smouldering in those usually lethargic eyes. A few of the more veteran out of the ten present models lined beside him held back their sigh and amused snickers; reporters and their kicks for scandals. Scandals were the main enemies of their profession and she should've known better to test the water around a certain moody model with the temper as short as any fuse could get.

Crossing his arms on the satin white table cloth, he leaned forward; eyes narrowing dangerously as a cold smirk touched his lips. "I think the idea of forever love is a laughable nonsense, honestly." the garnet carved lips curled wickedly, "Nothing's forever to me; so _don't_ say shit like it was inspired from me."

It was the longest sentence the raven had said in quite a while and it was clear from his venomous that it was time to close and change the subject before he snapped.

The reported looked out of it for a while, "So… I-I see, umm… well then! How about the statement from Miyahara Shizuka who—"

He cast the panicking reporter a cold glance and smirked silently. _Stupid woman. She could've done better than that if she wanted to squeeze something out of me._

-:- -:- -:- -:- -:-

Leaning on his luxurious leather couch, Atobe laced his fingers together and glanced over his top model who ceremoniously tossed himself at his expensive sofa. "Ore-sama personally thinks that you've scarred that journalist for life," Atobe muttered without a tone of sympathy but more as a casual, quietly amused remark.

Ryoma gave the diva a look before shrugging with closed eyes; sprawled almost too temptingly on the velvet couch of Atobe's extravagant and masculine office on the top of the building; his posture rather provocative out of habit and careless, making his shirt rode high enough to expose a glimpse of his smooth, flat stomach.

If Atobe wasn't so immune to this raven haired teen's charm, he'd have done something really uncharacteristic of his regal disposition and _jumped_ at him; because even the royalty needed to get some _release_ was his justification. He reprimanded Ryoma to _never_, a certain someone said and he quoted, let his guard down around others who didn't have 'ore-sama's self-esteem and control', or so he said.

"… She was being a pain." he offered all but an explanation. He pushed away an offending bangs and caught sight of his slightly long, black lacquered nails and pondered why should they insisted on him upholding that 'devilish' image from his latest photo book theme.

"_You really look like a devil!"_

His eyes softened as he recalled that voice privately inside his head; affection and almost overwhelming emotions threatened to cloud his judgement immediately at the mere thought.

"_They said that you're the spitting image of an angel in front of the camera, but I think that you're more like one that had fallen from grace!"_

He casually brushed back his dark hair that brushed against his shoulders tentatively. Indeed, he had bewitching eyes; eyes that pierced into the soul, tearing it to shreds by its charm as or so the magazines dramatized. They always said that he was like a succubus, the personification of the devil itself. He took pride in it, but he wasn't as vain as they believed him to be.

"So, what is it that you wanted to talk to me about, Monkey King?" Ryoma said flippantly as he leaned further into the couch, turning his eyes to the handsome diva and earning him a scowl.

"Don't address ore-sama with that horrendous nickname!" he frowned, before pausing to continue a few seconds later. "A cousin of ore-sama's—" Atobe paused momentarily, searching for a word, "—_acquaintance_—" he tested the word at the tip of his tongue before he deemed it right enough, "is quite the avid admirer of yours."

The raven haired teen raised an eyebrow, "Uh-huh… _and__?_" Vaguely, he could see where this was going though.

"And a few days ago, ore-sama had said to his _acquaintance_ that he'll let this acquaintance's cousin personally photograph you up-close."

The young model merely stared, torn on feeling amused or annoyed all at once.

"Of course, ore-sama will never let just anyone touch his brat. So we made a little…" he flipped his hair artistically; voice haughty almost unbearably, _"__exchange__."_

"Really…?" Ryoma drawled slowly with a smirk, "What _kind_ of exchange?" This time, his tone showed a little more than faint amusement and curiosity.

"That is not for you to concern yourself with." Atobe waved his right hand, almost dismissing the other male, "What you need to know is that _you_, brat, are going back to Japan in a week from now and become Todai's photography club's main subject for the national photography contest."

The slender brows meshed together in displeasure as Ryoma's lips twisted into a disapproving frown, "I thought I told you that I _don't_ want to go back?"

"A change of environment might do you some good."

Ryoma ran an impatient hand through his dark locks, "Monkey King, if you haven't noticed, _that_ is exactly why I moved half way around the globe." the model snapped, glaring at the diva. "It doesn't make sense if I go back now, does it?"

Atobe snorted in all of his haughtiness, "You already proved yourself enough, brat. No one will dare say anything even if you do go back now. Ore-sama thinks it's about time you go home and face up to reality."

Their eyes met, each unrelenting. Ryoma could see how serious his… _half-hearted friend cum enemy_ and sponsor for the last year was as he spoke.

"You can't force me."

"You can't run away forever." Atobe shot back, "And I _can_ force you, brat."

Ryoma scowled.

"Seriously, brat." the young heir dramatized with a sigh, "Ore-sama already told you that he'd give you a life. Get used to it."

The younger male rolled his eyes exasperatedly as he leaned back on his seat, before looking away in a nonchalant shrug, "Says the monkey who's still running away from his betrothal."

The diva glared his top model, "Shut up."

"What? You did run away from your fiancée." Ryoma fought back a wicked snicker, "Well, seeing what _it_ looked like, I would've done the same though."

Atobe glared. "Brat, just do what ore-sama tells you to," he snapped although the bite in his words was not as harsh as his words suggested. "This is a good chance for you to proof whatever it is you're so intent on proving."

"Monkey King, honestly…" Ryoma sighed exasperatedly as he leaned back onto the sofa, his legs crossed and hands laced together. Pressing his right elbow against the armrest, he raised his eyebrow at the handsome heir of Atobe. "You just want to get laid."

The heather haired diva flabbergasted. "Ore-sama does _not_!" Atobe huffed indignantly; if there was anything to ruffle the smooth, arrogant heir of Atobe, it would be his brat—nothing was ever truer. "And again, such crude wordings coming from you, brat!"

"Oh, I didn't think that monkeys would be in the heat during the summer. Is my wordings too much for your delicate ears?" the younger teen said with a teasing smirk, "But then again, they do come in varies, ne saru-sama?" Ryoma entertained himself by trying and almost always managing to burst a vein or two of the narcissistic diva, a hobby he had taken up ever since their high school days. The way his face went red and his body trembled with anger was always an amusement; it chased away his boredom.

"Silence, you impertinent brat!" Atobe snorted, although he'd claim that a royalty born like himself would never make that kind of sound. Ryoma never bothered to correct him. "Just make sure that you don't cause any trouble, you hear. Oh, and ore-sama doesn't want to hear anything, absolutely _anything_, about _that man_ ever again—are you listening, brat?"

Ryoma's sulk deepened, but shut his eyes and conceded for a change. He really didn't want to talk about _that_. He was never in the mood when they came down to that particular discussion.

"Che. Whatever, saru."

Both knew they held the other's ace cards but even now, both still didn't know who was holding the winning hand. Despite that, Ryoma was in no rush to win; he liked the volatile pace his life was going at and as long as he stuck with his mother's last name, no one would dare question his relation to his old man. The challenge now would be seeing his dearest brother and father again after so long.

This could get ugly. _Really_ ugly.

He was really going home after more than a year leaving his father and brother and not bothering to send even a word during that period. To be honest, he didn't know if he was ready for this. Ryoma sighed exasperatedly. He hated this.

Damn that monkey.

* * *

**End Note : **Umm, and so… that's the second part. Not much FujiRyo in this chapter, but I promise that's coming along soon enough. After all, he hasn't even heard of his father's marriage yet ^^

**Responses :**

**Hikaru-Star** -- The next ones might not be as long… we're just trying to cram the prelude here to attract you lot. Ehehe… yes, Mitsuru is for real. And nude photos…? (Gene : "I wouldn't mind seeing a nude Ryoma any day…" ~ finger on lips) (Moon : "…")

**alchino** -- Keep on R&R, pretty please!

**Deadly Regret** -- Glad to catch your attention. Yes, that's the whole point of making this prologue such a teaser but enough to give some back grounds.

**SerinG** -- Well… (Gene : "For that, it's really up to the mood. We can't force Ryoma to be seme or uke, it just depends on the whim and the situation. But I think Fuji suited more for the chasing and the whole jazz because he _is_ the older step brother, ne? Perhaps… a poll…?)

**flying jade** -- Of course!

**PheonixShadow** -- Please do, about the one-shots, we mean! So we can revive the fandom together and thank you for your compliment!

**oOoAriakeoOo** -- Ahaha, we don't want to actually force reviews out of the readers, but we're thankful that you thought this story is worth more. We tried to cover and enhance our speciality to make a more constructive story and yes, we gave it quite a lot of thoughts and changed so many from the original ideas. We hope that you enjoy this as much as we enjoy writing it.

**wuzzgoinon** -- In the name of all fangirls? That's pressure on us! We're honoured! Here you go, please review?

**heidi-mayer87** -- So far, so good, huh…? Well, let us hope it will continue like that. Hmm, we agree with that. The most bothersome part is Perfect Pair and RyoSaku especially. For description, it's Gene's field. Tell her that and you'll get her head even bigger than it's already is. I think that the Thrill Pair action just have to wait for one or two more chapters. And for Ryoma really doing it or not… (Moon : "… Is he really doing it or not?!") (Gene : "Let's keep it a secret for now… te hee…!")

**ToSet** -- Here you go!

**LucyMono** -- Thank you! Were glad to share!

**henriette** -- Ryoga is the one who actually played tennis here. Dunno about the others though, haven't thought about it. Longish chapters are not exactly impossible, but it depends on our chapter intent. (Gene : "Is it really unique? It's just a whim.")

**ThrillPair** -- Indeed, it's been a while. Exactly the reason why we tried to make this story as interesting as possible in order to prompt the wonderful Thrill Pair fics to once again reign over the fandom! Actually, we thought that this is a little rushed. Thank God if you think otherwise… (Gene : "I don't think that Moon has ever been clear. Then again, the both of us got quite similar taste.")

**Heart** -- We promise that we'll _try_ to update as often as possible. Well, as often as our life and other inspiration let us! (Gene : "Personally, I don't know if my stories are up to standard if you're used to Moon's fic, honestly… I'm not _that_ good.")

**who-8-mai-rice** -- Thank you for the review! Please, by all means, stalk this! The two of us are greedy when it comes to reviews and we promise you more twists and even more vivid description to sate your taste! Be sure to review with this update!

**Sweet3** -- A silent reader? Oh, don't mind about it. If you think we're good enough and reviewed, we're honoured to have you. (Gene : "I _still_ think it's not descriptive enough on the background and emotions! Oh, _**The Art of Deception**_, eh? And of course, I too am a fan of _**Fated**_!")

**nicki-gurl** -- Hail the Thrill Pair! And we're just beginning!

**Firey Chronicles** -- Gene's trying to reduce the usage of her over-expressive description though. Should she? Anyway, if we don't get him into modelling, this story would lose its direction. And personally, we thought it's reasonable enough. Or was it?

**wuzzgoinon** -- … You reviewed… _twice_! Thank you so much! We hope to send you into another fangirl mode after this! And yes, of course! No Thrill Pair fic is decent enough without some dirty scenes. (Gene : "I'm planning to use similiar lemon writing to _**Stated With A Kiss**_ if the readers don't mind… eh?")

**PGMD** - The title is a whim! (Gene : "We're supposed to change that!") Glad we didn't though, seeing your reaction. We longed for another Thrill Pair fic… sending S.O.S right now!

**xxsisz4evaxx** -- Not quite as long as the prologue chapter! Oh, you've seen nothing yet if you thought this much is predictable! But yeah, because of the summary… right… step-siblings… keep on R&R though! ^^

**Lady of the Hunt** -- Thank you!

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**ElementalFoxGoddess** -- Yeah… we sure hope so.

**SamanthaLienne** -- Yes! (Moon : "Thrill Pair is such _love_!")

**MysticBlood** -- Eh, wait until the next chapter for that! Yes, we love cliffhangers -- we're cruel like that. We've reduced the length though…

**-Sayume-** -- Okay! Please keep on R&R!

**Ai** -- You can use _wicked_. (Moon : "… Or so Gene said.")

**o0Shira0o** -- Wow, we love your review! Any author loves long reviews, at least we thought so. And you stalk us? Gosh, that's surprising because if you are, you're really quiet… (Gene : "I never see your name in Moon's review pages as well… and I certainly don't remember your name in mine… ne, Moon? Oh, and I approached Moon with a note in mind that she complements my style. I mean, yes, we're both twisted. I like writing powerful plots, but I'm not good at twisting and popping side OCs as good as Moon. Moon is very good at describing her stories, but I tried to expand her literacy aesthetic. And this wouldn't be the only story from us… as long as Moon is willing to put up with me.") We tried to bring the readers into the stories and to make this into a manga or anime is a far away, nonetheless beautiful dream. (Gene : "… I forgot about my fics!" ~ panic) (Moon : "She's _hopeless_…") You like the Imperial Pair? There would be quite a portion of Imperial Pair here! We've decided to reply by Moon's way. (Gene : "But I rarely got the chance to reply my reviewers… my deepest apologies. College life is just _harsh_.")

**Cannon Girl** -- Haha… sure, here you go!


	3. The Echizen Family

**WHEN FUJI BECAME AN ECHIZEN**

_Written by Playgirl Eugene and MoonExpressions_

**Author's Note : **Well, so far the responses have been pretty good. Although we noticed that there were more reviews for the prologue compared to the first chapter. Anyway, this time, we'll try to show how the Fuji family came to accept Nanjirou. Remember that this story's gender is not all about romance and sex, no matter how hot that combination might be. It is about family and slices of life as well.

**Standard Disclaimer:** The original Prince of Tennis and all of the characters, including the original plot, belong solely to Konomi Takeshi-sensei. The both of us own nothing of it and we do not earn any profit from this. This disclaimer stands firm for the whole of the story. Furthermore, if we use any material that needs to be disclaimed, there will be individual credit where due.

**Warning(s) :** In the future, depending on the readers' request, this fic might contain excessive, uncensored sexual themes; including sex between males, masturbation, foul languages, and similar traits.

**Summary :** What will happen when the Fuji family become a part of the crazy Echizen family? Especially when you throw in a one-night stand, attraction, and the promise to dominate the "new" sibling.

**Setting and Timeline:** Unrelated to the original setting and timeline since this is technically an AU story.

**Character Setting : **Nanjirou is 43, Yoshiko is 49, Ryoma is 19, Fuji is 21, Yuuta is 20, Yumiko and Nanako are 30, and Ryoga is 25. The rest of the characters are to adapt to their age. For example, Tezuka and Oishi are also 21 because Fuji is 21 and so on.

**Chapter Details :** Note that Ryoga lives in a different district than Nanjirou and the rest of the family. They still all live in Kanto Prefecture and Tokyo, but in different district.

* * *

Chapter 02

"The Echizen Family"

* * *

When Yoshiko first, awkwardly, brought up the topic of her children's somewhat agreement of their joined hands in matrimony, Nanjirou told her to bring them over for a little get together so that they wouldn't be complete strangers by the time they become a 'family'. He had always wanted to meet and get to know them in person rather than just listening to Yoshiko's fond stories.

Maybe, just _maybe_, it was because he was growing older and felt even lonelier. He never had memories with his boys that he could share with Yoshiko between their laughs. Or maybe it was just because he wanted to meet those who made this solemn woman a child once more. He'd always remember the way her eyes lit each time.

Initially, Yoshiko was wary. Yuuta was still sulking and though the other two were mature enough to make out of some possible worst situations – especially judging by how 'hostile' Nanjioru described his condition – Yoshiko didn't think it was such a good idea. But Nanjirou had shrugged it off and said that it wouldn't be a problem, considering that both of his sons were _never_ at home to cause any problem.

One moved out and the other went missing two years ago.

It sounded… sad.

Yoshiko always had her children close to her. Their bond was as strong as it could get, so she didn't really know how Nanjirou felt but sympathize with all the same with her best friend's condition. It was strange to think that she'd wed this man and be the 'mother' to his children. A few days ago, all of that seemed like a fleeting dream of nonsense and impossibilities.

Now, though, now everything was happening so fast that it seemed surreal. She also knew that she wasn't up meeting the Echizen boys either. It would be unnerving and she was both mentally and physically unprepared. She had only met the older one briefly but she had heard the _stories_ from Nanjirou.

According to him, the older one was more straightforward. Ryoga had always been a little crude with his wordings, but overall, a softie at heart. His youngest, however, was a mass of sculpted black ice with no apparent emotion.

In the end, they arranged for Yoshiko and her three children and two grandchildren to come to the Echizen estate that weekend.

Yoshiko was even more nervous compared to her children, who kept on assuring her that nothing she was worrying over would happen. Yumiko even told her that she'd kept an eye on Yuuta, who protested in retaliation.

While Yuuta was not exactly doing anything much, Yoshiko knew her youngest son better than that. The youngest Fuji was young and thus, acted with impulse. She knew that one day he'd learn to accept her decision on his own. It was just that, the one day may not come fast enough. Like this weekend, for example. Yoshiko could only hope that her three beloved would be able to get along with Nanjirou's.

-:- -:- -:- -:- -:-

Yuuta didn't want to admit it, of course. He was a teen in his rebellious age, and he was filled with that hot-headed pride. Yuuta was set on not letting the man his mother was planning to marry to get close to him – not even an inch. He swore that no matter what, he'd not be taken in by him. But he really couldn't help it when his jaw dropped quite literally to the ground the moment they got out of the taxi.

The Echizen resident was a traditional looking Japanese mansion. He knew that his mother's soon-to-be-husband – and their soon-to-be-father, unfortunately – was quite well off, but he didn't really expect him to reside in one of the most expensive neighbourhoods in Tokyo and houses. His mother didn't elaborate that one detail when she told them about this man she was planning to marry.

"You didn't mention about this, okaa-san…"

"Aah…" Yoshiko nodded quietly, "I didn't want you to think that I'm marrying him for money, or because he offered to help us. Especially since—"

As his mother and sister talked about something in a hushed tone and his brother looking torn between frowning and admiring the house with an entrance hall that could fit almost their apartment, Shusuke was silently impressed. It seemed to him that his mother's soon-to-be husband was no joke.

Shusuke had taken the liberty to check up on it through the internet and some older magazines when his mother mentioned the man's name for the first time. Once quite an avid tennis player had the brunet knew of some prominent names in tennis. That name rang quite a bell and Shusuke couldn't help but felt curious.

It turned out that his hunch was correct.

Echizen Nanjirou was indeed a world-class athlete in the past, in a completely different league all on his own. He was hailed as a living legend and owned quite a notorious reputation with thirty nine consecutive win and clean record of no lost. The man himself was a living time bomb; most of the time no one knew what he was thinking off. Apparently, he vanished from the court almost twenty years ago for no apparent reason that shocked the public, the tennis world, and the media alike. As soon as his late wife passed on, to return to Japan and lived in solace with his two sons and nothing was heard from him ever again since.

Ironically, it was around the time the accident which took _his_ father's life happened.

The only thing known was the fact that he had two sons; one was adopted though still blood related while the other was his biological son whose name and picture were not enclosed for privacy's sake. Before his first marriage, Echizen Nanjirou was quite the Don Juan. He had been roguishly handsome and charming that he left a long trail of broken-hearted women when he finally settled down after being tamed by a very beautiful, talented young lawyer in New York.

They were wealthy, well-off, and respected in the society.

_Wow._

Did his mother even realize who she was marrying? How on earth did they get to know each other on the first place? Yoshiko always seemed to change the subject when it touched to how they got to know each other at first.

"Don't tell me that he lives _alone_ in _this_ house?" Yumiko's raised voice was overheard by her two brothers, who looked at them before staring at one another with a note of disbelief. It was hard to think that someone would live in a house this size all by himself; what kind of man was he?

It didn't take long for the Fuji siblings to receive their answers. The front gate was opened, revealing a brunet man in his middle forties, wearing a sleeveless shirt, black training pants, and a white napkin tied over his head.

For a few stunned minutes, they stared at the blinking man who was holding up the gate by one hand while holding a worn looking broom on the other hand. Needless to say, the first impression that one Echizen Nanjirou gave was quite particular.

-

-

_**City Hall**_

_**Tokyo, Japan**_

_**12.30 PM**_

"Yuuta, stop sulking." chided Yumiko as she straightened Yuuta's tie. Her slim fingers adeptly undoing and redoing the knot.

The addressed brunet merely frowned as he let Yumiko smoothen the wrinkles of his suit. He was pissed beyond words; not only that he was made to wear a suit, he never did agree to this wedding from the first place. Both of his older siblings were ganging up against him and God knew what it meant to have the two older Fuji teaming up. He didn't see why they _all_ had to be present when his new 'father' so-called children had yet to show their faces or, in this case, attend the wedding. So, he settled for sulking.

"But it's so stuffy!"

"Don't be childish now. If Yusuke can sit still for twenty minutes, surely you do too." Yumiko shook her head. The youngest former Fuji was about to protest about being compared to a five-year old tyke when another voice cut in to shush him.

"Ssh! It's starting!" Yukimura whispered from the side, pressing a finger against his lips before turning back to the couple who was waiting for the reading.

"I call upon these persons here present to witness that I, Echizen Nanjirou, do take thee, Fuji Yoshiko, to be my lawful wedded wife." Nanjirou spoke of his vow firmly and slowly.

Yoshiko repeated the vow, "I call upon these persons here present to witness that I, Fuji Yoshiko, do take thee, Echizen Nanjirou, to be my lawful wedded husband."

It was followed by a ring-exchange; the rings were simple platinum band with a diamond sitting in the middle, nothing too fancy. Even Nanjirou was only wearing a simple black suit while Yoshiko wore a white gown to match his suit.

"A simple wedding is so much better than a dazzling one sometimes…." Yumiko said mostly to herself while pushing the thoughts of her own wedding, which hadn't been extravagant but modestly big, off of her mind. She had a duty today to hold out for Yoshiko's sake and she wouldn't be adding her problems to her mother's.

Shusuke heard her and could almost taste the bitterness in her words. He knew that weddings would remind her all too soon about that pathetic excuse of a husband seeing her divorce happened not so long ago. Shusuke was pulled out of his thoughts when the official nodded and formally proclaimed them as man and wife before the crowd burst with applause when Nanjirou leaned over and pressing a chaste kiss on the corner of Yoshiko's lips, sealing their vows. Yoshiko's eyes fluttered open as she smiled gently at her new husband, giving his hand a light squeeze of reassurance. It didn't escape her notice that Nanjirou was shaking slightly.

Somewhere from the front rows, Nanjirou's friends and some drinking buddies cat-called, causing Yoshiko to break her eye contact with Nanjirou and blush slightly. The ceremony was over just like that. It was a simple event, more for the protocol than anything religious, and witnessed only by their closest family and friends.

The newly-weds turned to the small crowd of thirty. There were some of Yoshiko's former colleagues, Yumiko and her children, Yuuta and his suspicious looking 'boyfriend' who kept shooting suggestive look to Yoshiko's older son and his pretty looking friend, and there were some of Shusuke's friends from campus – a cattish looking redhead, some mother hen with weird hairdo, a bubblegum blowing redhead, a boy with spiderlike hair, and finally a shy but bulky brunet – whereas the tensai himself was busy video recording the whole ceremony with his camcorder.

Nanjirou couldn't help the small twinge of sadness at seeing the absence of his own sons. He knew that it was a chance he took when he couldn't summon enough guts to break the news to the boys. He realized that he didn't even know Ryoma's address in America though he did send out an invitation for Ryoga.

As Yumiko and some older women approached Yoshiko to offer some congratulations, he glanced around and caught sight of someone at the door. He blinked in disbelief.

_Was that… his son?_

When he blinked again, however, he found no one at the door. His heart immediately sank; he shouldn't have hoped. He thought he saw his older son because he was hoping that at least one of his family members would be here.

He felt a gentle squeeze on his hand, one which brought him out of his thoughts. Gazing down, he noticed that the small woman on his arm was offering him a tentative, sympathetic smile. She was probably aware of the dilemma he was facing. He smiled back. Seeing his spouse, he couldn't help feeling a little better. He was not alone – Yoshiko and her family were now his family too.

Kikumaru bounced as he hugged Fuji, congratulating him. "Nya, now that the both of your parents are married, you're going to be an Echizen ne, Fujiko?" Kikumaru grinned widely, before he paused and then started to pout. "Mou…! But! But! It's going to be so hard calling with any other name than _Fujiko_! Can I just keep calling you that?" Kikumaru whined; jumping on his left leg and fisting both of his hands.

Shusuke and Yukimura chuckled at the redhead's antics while Kirihara commented something about it that caused the redhead to accuse him of being a 'meanie'. Afterward, they had a little photo taking session done by the members of Todai's very own photography club.

"Smile for the camera!" Shusuke instructed as he fiddled with his camera, taking several pictures to commemorate the occasion. He took several of Nanjirou and Yoshiko, the two of them with Yumiko and her children, Nanjirou with a reluctant Yuuta, Yoshiko with the children, and several other that even included his friends.

However, he didn't take a picture of all of them together – knowing that it would hurt his new father when he realized that the photo had strangers in it, but not his own sons. Briefly, Fuji wondered how Echizen Nanjirou's sons were really like.

-:- -:- -:- -:- -:-

The ceremony was followed by a small, private dinner party at a fancy restaurant Nanjirou booked. Yoshiko had told him that he didn't have to, but he insisted, wanting his second and last wedding to be something a bit more special. When he kidnapped Rinko and eloped with her to Florida against Rinko's parents wishes, it was only them, the official, and Ryoga's biological parents who stood as witness. It took Rinko's parents twelve years to accept Nanjirou as their son-in-law. Now that both of them had passed away, Nanjirou thought they would be rolling in their graves by the fact that he had remarried. Now that he thought about it, his first marriage wasn't given consent by his parents-in-law; his second wasn't given consent by his sons. Some vindictive mistress up there must have thought this was amusing.

He was slightly tipsy when Shusuke and Yoshiko decided to help pull him out of the car. Yumiko took the steer when she saw the state of her father was in; really, men and sake just couldn't sit together nice and quietly. She had seen how Nanjirou's friends tried to chug down a grand total of five bottle of rice wine down her step-father's throat.

Nanjirou was singing something outrageous that they had been singing in the reception, Yuuta was carrying a sleeping Akiko whereas Yumiko was leading a sleepy Yusuke by hand. Yoshiko was chiding Nanjirou about drinking so much; pouring his wine for almost twelve years taught her that Nanjirou wasn't all that good with liquor.

"Who told you to drink so much?" Yoshiko thought that she was taking up the role as this man's wife easier than she thought if they started it this way.

Nanjirou's reply was incoherent and slurred. Yoshiko opened her mouth to say something else when another voice interrupted them.

"Oyaji."

They all turned to see a handsome, a _very_ handsome man, who was crossing his arms while leaning against the sleek glaring red roofless Baby Band. He was wearing a tight button-up shirt and a pair of faded jeans that fit him like glove. With his sleeves rolled up casually and a sunshade perched on his straight nose, despite the frown marring the full lips, he was devastatingly attractive.

Shusuke, with his vast interest in photography, couldn't help but appreciate the sight. Yumiko was certainly amused, being a woman and all. Even though she was a mother of two now, her feminine instinct could still appreciate a good-looking man. The most surprising thing was Yuuta who had his jaw unhinged.

Yoshiko though, looked utterly worried as a wide-eyed Nanjirou, suddenly sobered up quite considerably as if he had a bucket of ice water drenched on him – probably it _was_ how he felt like at the moment – wobbly tried to straighten his body and fisted a hand to prepare himself.

"Ryoga…"

"Who?" Yuuta whispered to no one in particular.

"Nanjirou's older son." Yoshiko was the one who answered her youngest, all the while not taking her eyes of the raven haired young man.

"Eh?!" exclaimed a shocked looking Yuuta. Clearly, he was surprised that the gorgeous looking man was going to be – or rather, _was_ – his older brother.

"Oyaji," he growled lowly, his deep and rumbling voice dangerous but manly. "What's the meaning of this?"

"It's just it, Ryoga." Nanjirou wetted his suddenly dry lips, "I'm married."

"Fuck that. I don't even get a wind of this." he snarled. Even through the tinted shades, they could feel the penetrating gaze behind it. Shusuke started to feel curious of what the colour of the man's eyes. "Chibisuke doesn't know about this, does he?" Ryoga slowly spoke; his eyes never wavered away from the man that was his father in all but blood. Shusuke could see his attempt of staying calm from the slight trembling of his clenched fist.

Nanjirou averted his eyes purposely as a grim look settled on his slightly worn out face, "… No."

"You do know what will happen when he does, don't you?" Ryoga voiced out a bit impatiently, snarling a little now.

Nanjirou tensed but nodded just the same.

"And?"

"… I wouldn't have changed my mind even then."

Ryoga gave him a levelled glare, as if he was trying to really look at his father for the first time since so long. "Well, it's your own choice, really." Ryoga lamented cynically, shaking his head, "I guess we were never much of a family for you to actually drop some words about getting married."

"Ryoga, I'm just—"

Then suddenly, Ryoga let out a bitter laugh and stepped back. He levelled his gaze with Nanjirou's, both almost seemed to communicate wordlessly before Ryoga moved faster than anyone could blink and swung his right fist square against Nanjirou's jaw, causing the brunet man to stumble back with the force of it. Yoshiko and Yumiko gave a simultaneous gasps, clasping hands over their mouths, Shusuke merely raised an eyebrow, while Yuuta was sputtering in surprise.

Ryoga straightened and lowered his fist, as he threw a cold glare at Nanjirou, who was pushing himself off the ground. "That's for being an idiot, oyaji." he said, tugging one hand on his own waist. "When chibisuke finds out about this," the younger of the two men grimaced, "don't say that I didn't warn you."

"Ryoga-san…" murmured Yoshiko slowly, as she greeted him a bit reservedly. She remembered their first encounter, which wasn't the best of meetings. What he had said that day still hung in the air in her case.

Ryoga didn't say anything for a long time as he stared from Yoshiko to Nanjirou and back again. He didn't say anything else as his hand raised and pushed itself through his hair. A loud sigh was heard as his stare went intently directly to Yoshiko, as he looked her over for flaws, for a motive, anything. But there was nothing.

His old man was just too old to be running for woman with a child older than his own. What was he thinking? Was he actually that lonely?

Then again, this woman didn't look all that dangerous nor did she look like she was in for the money. Much. Better yet, she looked like the nervous girlfriend who was about to be presented to her boyfriend's parents. The irony of the situations would've made him doubled over with laughter on another occasion.

Ryoga had always considered himself a decent judge on people's character and this situation wasn't any different. He knew that outward appearance could be deceptive, but his instinct told him otherwise. He did not feel that kind of 'love' between the woman and his father. Ryoga went through women in his life like Ryoma through his designer wardrobe and it was enough for him to pick on any signal quite deftly.

He was feeling rather mixed up; angry, confused, disappointed. Everything was jumbled up. If his father had married some dynamite, redheaded Brazilian model with a nice rack would be a hell lot easier to figure out than this. The woman before him must have been quite pretty in her younger days – not quite the head-turning kind of beauty like his mother's – but more of her 'inner strength' and 'strong will' that reflected in her sincere brown eyes and gentle, determined visage that attracted others. She looked even older than his father. She had three children. She wasn't even his father's type.

"Ryoga, listen to me—"

"This isn't the way out, oyaji." Ryoga slowly spoke, willing himself to focus from the stream of thoughts inside his head. "If this is your scheme to get the chibisuke and I a new mom, it's a bit late don't you think?"

Nanjirou looked as if he was slapped. "I just thought—"

"Whatever your reason is, oyaji, let me tell you that I won't oppose it but I'm not going to back it up either." Ryoga turned and softly added, "I only have one mother, and she's dead."

Yoshiko felt her heart dropped at his words.

"Yoshiko-san," Ryoga called, startling Yoshiko in the process. Shusuke's first instinct was to jump into his mother's protection in case Ryoga had no qualm to hit a woman like he had his father.

But now that he got a closer look at Ryoga, he was reminded of something from about a year ago. His supposed step-brother somewhat resembled a young teen he met at a party Yukimura had invited him to. It was a fling in a drunken stupor and for a moment, his heart leapt to his throat when thinking that Ryoga might be _that_ boy. But _no_—that boy had been _different_. Yes, Shusuke was positive the one he met that night wasn't Echizen Ryoga, but no doubt they looked somewhat similar.

'_Or maybe you're still pining away from that one night.'_ Fuji thought to himself, lost in his reminiscence for a few private seconds, _'How miserable. Knowing that I might never forget it just makes it even more unbearable while I don't even know his name.'_

The only thing he remembered in his drunken stupor was a blur of sharp pleasure and the heady scent of sex – black rose, and a name – _whose_, he didn't know.

"H, hai…?" Yoshiko answered quietly.

Ryoga levelled her with a golden gaze, "I've nothing against you." he stated almost mechanically, "Nor do I dislike you in anyway. I don't even know you. But you're my old man's new wife, and although it's stupid, there's nothing I can do about it. So I guess—" he paused, throwing one last glare at Nanjirou, "—see you around."

Yoshiko slowly blinked and nodded, a bit unsure if she had heard it right. Ryoga, for sure, wasn't accepting her nor was he telling her that he'd be willing to try. But at least, she knew that he didn't detest her presence so much if he was willing to see her. And for now, that was enough. Ryoga gave a tense nod to Yoshiko and her children before slipping back into his car and drove away from sight.

For the first three minutes, no one said anything – not even Yuuta – until Nanjirou turned and started to speak. "Well, folks, that's Ryoga anyway… the older one." Nanjirou shrugged with a humourless chuckle, rubbing and adjusting his sore jaw. He suspected that it was misallocated, considering that Ryoga never held back when it came to punching sense into anyone for that matter.

"What the hell was that…? He just came in and sucker punched you like that and –" Yuuta flabbergasted.

Nanjirou grimaced, "Ryoga was always the more… physical one. But the good thing about it is that after he punched, he doesn't hold anything else inside."

"But still…" Yuuta mumbled as his cheeks flushed red.

Judging from the shade of red spilt across his cheeks, Shusuke knew his sweet little brother had indeed grew up. Although Yuuta had remained naïve and childish most of the time, Shusuke couldn't help but feel a little lonely with the prospect of his growing baby brother someday not needing him any longer. He knew what commodity was hot and had the decency to feel flustered when he seen one, a perfectly hormonal thing to do by a teenager in puberty.

Thus it made Shusuke wonder how he ended up head over heels over that octopus, Miyuki or something, out of anything else. It was a hidden wonder, Shusuke thought. Shusuke was still trying relentlessly to break them up – without Yuuta knowing it, of course. Yuuta might be a little oblivious and naïve, but Shusuke was not. He caught how Yuuta's suspicious boyfriend was eyeing on Yukimura like the teal haired male was some kind of meat and he didn't like it one bit. One thing, Yukimura was his best friend and the other thing; he was _not_ supposed to hurt his little brother – not when you were dealing with a Fuji.

Shusuke was brought back to the present situation when he heard Yoshiko's voice breaking his sadistic thoughts.

"You didn't tell him?" Yoshiko asked as she caressed the bruise carefully, thinking of compressing it later.

"Can't,"

Yoshiko had a disapproving frown, but otherwise nodded in understanding. She knew of the problematic relationship between father and sons and couldn't blame it on Nanjirou for not being able to brave it on his own.

"What about your other son?" at Nanjirou's expression, Yoshiko's frown deepened, "But, I thought you said that Ryoga is the most… _worrisome_."

"He is." Nanjirou muttered quietly, "Ryoga is too temperamental and brash, that's why I said it's worrisome – amazing really that he only punched me once. Well, I'm glad he's against hitting women and children," he paused, "At least know I know that he'd cool down after this."

"What about your younger son?"

"That's the problem," Nanjirou spoke gloomily.

"Eh?"

"The other one," the brunet man started slowly, remembering the cold eyes of his younger son, "he simply doesn't feel at all."

-:- -:- -:- -:- -:-

_**Echizen Residence**_

_**Tokyo, Japan**_

_**Five days after the wedding**_

Yoshiko had been worrying all day, pacing around that it made even Yumiko twitched and told her to sit and calm down. Somehow, the last Echizen she had yet to meet made her nervous. The entertainment news all over was talking about the supermodel's speculations over his love-life and the movie offers he rejected, and the latest one, was about his sudden return to Japan.

"Don't you think we should pick him up? I mean, it's better if someone picked him up, right?" Yoshiko asked her husband unsurely.

She had found out surprisingly from Nanjiroh and the television, not too long ago, about who the youngest Echizen was. She dreaded the fact that she knew next to nothing about her new husband's family. After all, she _never_ knew her husband used to be a professional tennis player until Shusuke mentioned it the other day. She only knew that Nanjirou loved playing tennis – how she missed that after eleven years of friendship, she didn't know. Nanjirou could be tight-lipped when he wanted to be. She didn't know Ryoga was a prominent figure in the trade of branded sport merchandises in this part of Japan, nor the fact that the youngest was a world famous model.

"I doubted that we'll get out once we get in if it concerns the brat," Nanjiroh merely said as he turned back to the television which was broadcasting a live report about the chaos at the airport as they waited for 'Snow'. It looked like a crowd of ants; some even set up camps and slept outside the airport building.

Yoshiko's lips frowned, "Do you even know the time of his arrival?"

"Don't bother." Nanjirou replied calmly as he breathed smoke through his nostril quietly, "Not even the newscast knows. He'll get here when he gets here."

Yoshiko nodded tightly and returned her eyes to the television.

-

-

_**Grand Hill Apartment**_

_**Roppongi, Tokyo**_

_**10.45 AM**_

Ryoga tossed his jacket onto the sofa as he followed suit and practically collapsed onto the sofa as well. He groaned as he stretched lazily and stared out to his new neighbourhood. Roppongi wasn't a bad place. It was just considered a place where you had to have a lot of money even to live in. But he liked it here despite what it might do to drain his account dry. It was close to Shibuya's and Roppongi's nightlife; modernized with western buildings, and overall comfortable for his type of living. It wasn't that far from where his new family was now living either. They had moved in to be with his old man and now occupying that old house in Aoyama, which was in the same ward as he was living in despite the different district.

Despite that, getting along – or at least, _pretending_ to – with his 'new' family wasn't as troubling as how he was going to break the news to his so-not-cute little brother who practically 'ran away' from home years ago that he now had a new mother and siblings. Ryoma was never someone who was easy to communicate with; one could never guess how he'd react to something. His temper was something to be wary of, yet sometimes, he simply didn't give a damn at all.

'_Then again, it's not my fault you decided to cut ties with oyaji and me back then, you insufferable brat!'_ Ryoga thought silently as he rolled to a more favourable position on his sofa.

Though he never discussed it with Nanjirou, Ryoga sometimes worried about the headstrong brat that found a passion in modelling and decided to go back to the States to pursue that dream. His father seemed to share the same sentiment, but you could never tell with an Echizen.

He hadn't mentioned it to anyone when he had gone online to check on the brat. He wasn't the least bit surprised that the brat was successful. After all, he himself looked very handsome as well and Ryoma simply had their mother's – their _real_ mother's – look. Takeuchi Rinko was once a heartthrob after all.

Ryoga remembered the time when Ryoma was still in his elementary school. He was so adorable and effeminate with his big eyes and small nose; the boys couldn't leave him alone. Kids always teased the one they liked. Ryoma, knowing that he was a boy, took it in a whole different meaning. He assumed that they hated him for some reason and retaliated by sucker-punching them. Nanjirou was called numerous times to the teacher's office. But he merely laughed it off before ruffling Ryoma's hair, saying something about 'boys will be boys', causing the teacher to pull her hair in frustration.

No, the surprising part was the fact that Ryoma debuted overseas underneath the alias of 'Snow', and underneath that info – he was listed as Takeuchi Ryou.

That was the main reason he hadn't wanted to show their old man Ryoma's awards and success. It was a cover and a way to break from 'Echizen Nanjirou' the professional player who quit tennis in order to raise his sons, but their old man wouldn't see it that way. He'd be hurt that Ryoma wanted to known as his own person and not as his 'spawn' so badly, he had gone under their mother's last name.

"Eh…" Ryoga uttered turning his head to stare at the photo his new 'sister' had decided to set on his side table the other day. He admitted it had been a while since he'd seen his old man face light with happiness as it had been the day that picture was taken at the wedding. The old man's face was still tired, but that dark shadow on his eyes had lessen somewhat.

That was one of the biggest reasons he went through with the wedding without complaining about his father's age and the fact that he didn't need a mother, not after living without one for so long. The lines of worry and age worn gaze when his father looked at the woman who was now his mother, he remembered that day clearly.

-

-

_**Flashback – Echizen Residence**_

_**Tokyo, Japan**_

_**A few weeks earlier (several days after Yoshiko's first visit to the Echizen Residence)**_

"Baka oyaji!" Ryoga muttered aloud as he noted how the front door was practically open and inviting thieves into the house, "How dare he go out and leave the door open!" Ryoga continued to rant as he ran a hand tiredly through his hair, ruffling it silently. He went to close the door when he saw his father walking in with thin brunette woman. Nanjirou seemed startled when his eyes rest on him.

"Ryoga…"

Ryoga narrowed his eyes and threw a blatantly suspicious look upon both of them. "Who is she?" Ryoga said noting that his father's uneasiness was as apparent as the time he had tried to ask if he had had any contact with Ryoma. He told them to go and talk into the kitchen as he noted the woman shut the front door and donned Ryoma's old slippers as she excused herself quietly for entering and followed in tow.

Walking into the kitchen, Ryoga went in search of his orange juice while he waited for one or the other to speak. He was a tolerating man, never one to jump into conclusions and all. To his disappointment, his father merely opened and closed his mouth about a minimum of half a dozen times as he tried to find words and the woman beside him was no better as she fidgeted with sleeve and couldn't look up from where she fixated her stare on the ground.

"Well?" Ryoga coaxed, "What is it that I should know about with the two of you?"

"You see, Ryoga…" Nanjiroh started hesitantly, "This here is Yoshiko—I mean, Fuji Yoshiko and she's—"

"It's nice to meet you, Yoshiko-san." Ryoga said instead cutting his father off to stare at the woman next to his father. He was a bit surprised when she introduced herself quickly with a few stutters as well before cowering again. "So, who is _Yoshiko-san_, oyaji?" the younger Echizen asked in a deceptively polite tone as he sipped on his orange juice.

"We're just close friends," Nanjiroh said quickly almost making the whole sentence seems as if it was one word rather than ten.

"Uh-huh," Ryoga muttered slowly, "Close friends." he repeated.

Nanjirou gave a small nod.

"… How close?"

"Not… like _that_. Not really…" Nanjirou mumbled, his eyes darting towards anywhere but his son's inquisitive look, "She's just someone I knew from Daishoku. You know, that restaurant down the block that I often went to—and we've been friends for, like, _ages_! And we shared some sake together but that's about it. I swear, Ryoga we didn't—"

"I see." Ryoga interrupted again, seeing Nanjirou getting more and more flustered. Something else was going on and he knew it. His old man wasn't telling him something and unlike his tight-lipped otouto, his old man _rambled_ when he was lying. "… Oyaji, is there something you want to tell me?"

Nanjirou paled slightly and his reaction fuelled Ryoga's suspicion. "Something that you're not telling me?"

"I, uh… well, we… umm—" the older man threw a withering look at Yoshiko, who returned the stare and simply touched his arm as if telling him wordlessly that it was alright.

'_But what was? I haven't seen oyaji that freaked out since chibisuke told him he was going to go out on a date six years ago.'_

Ryoga heaved a heavy breath and placed his orange juice down at the counter before raising his hand to message his temple. "Look, oyaji…" he started, "I'm not chibisuke, okay? Now, if you'd just tell me _what_ _is it_, I won't –"

Suddenly, his phone went off, startling the three. Ryoga fished out his phone, noticing how Nanjirou took the chance to inhale some breaths he seemed to be missing for the last minute. After Ryoga finished his phone call, which turned out to be from one of his colleagues, he turned to the two older people of the room and sighed. "I've got some urgent matters to deal with," Ryoga said, downing on his orange juice before hurling it right into the bin not a few feet away, "If you ever have the balls to spill the bean, oyaji, you know where to call."

With that and a curt nod to Yoshiko, Ryoga was gone out the door.

– _**End Flashback**_

-

-

It turned out that the call never did come. He had learnt the marriage from the written invitation Nanjirou had sent him. Of course, he was furious. He considered barging into the City Hall and punching the daylight out of his father, hoping for him to gain some form of intelligence and sanity. He entertained a lot of possibilities, but in the end, after venting some steam on some furniture, he calmed down. He'd see how it goes first. It was too late to change anything about the marriage now and what he could do was only to watch and only then he'd be able to decide.

Ryoga sighed as he stood and stretched once more before looking out the window of his apartment on the sixteenth floor. The news had told him that Ryoma left New York late last night for Japan. That meant he would be here soon, and that meant he'd have to pull some fast strings if he was to save his old man's sorry arse.

-

-

_**Todai Photography Club**_

_**Tokyo Daigaku**_

_**10.45 PM**_

"Takeuchi Ryou, huh?" Mitsuru chuckled, "Well, it's the dream of every living photographer worthy of his camera to have him now. He didn't become a first-class model in two years just because a pretty face after all."

He and Yukimura were sitting together at the club house as they waited for their afternoon classes, going through some glossed black photo albums of a certain golden eyed model. Yukimura gazed at the beautifully taken pictures. Certainly, the photographer was talented. The way he captured his subject's most eye-catching features, the way he made the light that fell on them looked smooth and warm, and the abstractness of each pictures was telling a story of its own. The teal haired young man smiled as he raised his face, "Indeed. He certainly is beautiful."

Mitsuru grinned before standing up and walked toward the shelf. Slowly threading and taking out a book from the upper shelf, he walked back to Yukimura while bringing a rather thick looking photo book. "Out of all of his photo albums though, this is the one I like the most."

"Hnn?"

Mitsuru handed the black glossed album over to Yukimura. The album cover was simple; cursive silver writings and a thin frame against the flawless black surface.

"It's his first nude collection; Sense-U-ality."

Yukimura blinked. He had seen many of Takeuchi Ryou's pictures and had heard about his nude collections, but never thought of actually seeing one. Unlike most pornographic nude album, his was pure art. His first, particularly, was a rare limited edition and cost quite a sum. Somehow, he didn't find it surprising that Tezuka Mitsuru possessed it – considering how well he manipulated Atobe Keigo after all.

As he went through the pictures, he had to admit that the young male was not holding back anything in his poses. The photographer's skill had allowed him to capture every angle beautifully without exposing complete nudity, thus enhancing the allure of the unknown. There was something about the model that was completely in control.

"I never thought that such a high-class model would also do nude pictures," Yukimura muttered quietly, "Although these are very beautiful, but still wouldn't his reputation…?"

"Ah, no actually." Mitsuru shook his head, "There are a quite few objections and disapproval initially. The press, the public. After all, he debuted as a teen model and they said he should've maintained that 'clean' image."

Yukimura nodded, prompting Mitsuru to continue.

"But a model's life is like that—a fleeting glamour, an inconsistent thing. If you don't take chances, you'd never go anywhere." Mitsuru continued as he laced his fingers together, "Humans are like that. And people like him couldn't stop changing, or else, the public would soon become bored and would be quick to abandon him."

Mitsuru took his seat once more as he continued to talk, "If he didn't do this, the public would've found him as simply another model and eventually left him," the glasses wearing young man tapped on his chin, "I must say though, he is rather extreme at times. Everyone was shocked when he suddenly stated that he'd launch his first nude album. And yes, what a hit it was. He was the highest paying supermodel of that year, with the earning of a brilliant forty-two million dollars."

Yukimura slowly traced the smooth glossed surface with his fingers, "He's like a… succubus."

The senior raised an eyebrow, "Incubus, you mean?

"No, a succubus." Yukimura affirmed with a smile, "And he seems dangerous."

-

-

_**JFK International Airport**_

_**New York, America**_

_**09.45 PM**_

Ryoma mentally murdered Atobe for the thousandths time as he sat deceptively patient next to the Monkey King in the VIP waiting room and ignored the eyes that followed his every movement and gawked at him.

They could've taken Atobe private jet, but _no_. The monkey-king himself wanted publicity even on the way home. But that wasn't one of the worst parts. The fact that _he_ had to sit next to him, who was currently on the phone with 'someone of great importance' as the monkey-king himself stated was even more disturbing since Ryoma heard him 'flirt'.

Turning back stare at the night sky across the wall sized window panel, Ryoma sighed and thought of something that hadn't crossed his mind in a long time. He wondered how his old man and Ryoga were doing after all this time.

Opening his Vertu Ascent Ti Ferrari Rosso, he strolled down to a section he rarely used and dialled his brother's cell phone, hoping that he hadn't changed it. He was going home now. He really couldn't believe that he was going to go back – after two years of no contact and suddenly he was returning home.

A meow to the side made Ryoma glance down. Karupin, being the smart feline he was, was already sulking. Perhaps he was sensing that he was about to board another plane and Karupin _hated_ planes like he did baths. Ryoma didn't like the latter, but he petted him sympathetically for the former and glared at his so-called boss.

"… Seriously, Monkey King, if Karupin gets sick for being put up at the garage, I'm going to make your balls as earbobs." he said, ignoring Atobe's follow-up splutter.

-

-

_**Grand Hill Apartment**_

_**Roppongi, Tokyo**_

_**11.00 PM**_

"Who the hell…." Ryoga uttered as he checked his cell phone only to see a number he didn't recognize. A bit curious, he picked up anyways.

"Took you long enough."

"Who the hell – chibisuke?" Ryoga asked in disbelief. His eyes widening comically as the annoyed voice connected to the face.

"Who else?"

"Well, how am I supposed to expect a call from someone who hasn't shown any sign of living since the day he walked out the door to New York?" Ryoga complained sitting heavily on his own sofa. He hadn't even thought of how to break it to the boy yet and the chance already presented itself.

"Well, unlike oyaji and you, I was busy conquering the world and hearts of all men and women around the world."

"Well, let me tell you this, Mr. I'm-so-famous-I-don't-have-time-to-drop-a-message-to-my-fucking-family'…" Ryoga growled with a scowl. Seeing that there wasn't any other way to tell him but to use the way he was most comfortable with – the Echizen way. "While you were screwing some good lays, drowning in dirty dollars, and posing nude, I moved out."

"_Big_ news." Ryoma said with dripping sarcasm.

"It is," Ryoma paused, licking on his suddenly dry lips, before blurting out the rest of the words quickly, "Because dad needs his space with a new wife and new set of kids you know." Ryoga said casually landing the final blow. He counted mentally to ten before the other side of the line finally reacted.

"… _What_?"

His otouto's hiss was quiet but the venom it in did not go undetected.

"Yup! You heard me right, chibisuke. Oyaji got hitched, and now you and I have one fucking big happy family of a new mom, two brothers, a hot looking sister, and have been upgraded a whole level to 'uncles' for two little tots." Ryoga summarized with a chuckle.

Then, there was silence. Ryoga entertained the thought that the almighty youngest Echizen might have fainted, or was at least shocked into a dumb silence. He was disappointed though, when the clear and sharp voice came through the line again – a little irritated but not shaken the least.

"… Why wasn't I informed?"

"Well, thanks to some idiot who forgot that he got a family in Japan who didn't bother to leave any contact details or address, he couldn't be reached through phone calls at all since the office had quoted, 'no clue Takeuchi-san has a brother, good day'. It was like their freaking answering machines or something…"

"My manager was… paranoid. I was kidnapped by a stalker who claimed to be my brother a year back."

It took Ryoga a few second to digest it before he let out a hysteric, "… Kidnapped?!"

Before his brother got into another brother-complex mode, Ryoma interrupted him, "Long story," he brushed off casually, "Anyway, I don't want to stay at a hotel. The media will be swarming all over the place. And I sure as hell unwilling to accept Monkey King's 'oh-so-generous' offer… he'd never shut up." the younger boy listed, "Do you have anywhere?"

"Well, for one thing, you can crash at my place for the time being, chibisuke." momentarily forgetting about the kidnapping part, Ryoga shrugged carelessly, "So when do you touch down?"

"Tomorrow afternoon. My boarding time by 10 NY time; do some math. I'll call you when I arrived. We'll meet you at the café near my old school."

"Aa. Catch you later, then." Ryoga said before hanging up. It seemed their new dear mother might be getting more than she bargained for.

-

-

_**First Class**_

_**Boeing 878 Dreamliner**_

_**Five hours into the flight**_

Takeuchi Ryou, the Snow, was pissed. He couldn't smoke; he couldn't drink – no thanks to a certain monkey who didn't seem to get that he was not a baby and certainly not _his_ baby. And he couldn't do _anything_ and he was bored. Nothing good came out of an Echizen bored. Ryoma's get-down-and-dirty side wanted to do something to help him relieve some stress.

And just as he thought that, the Italian flight attendant walked by and smiled seductively. Ryoma immediately approved of those deep chocolate eyes. The fine dark haired specimen male nodded his head in the direction of the galley on the plane. Ryoma arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at the hot gaze eyeing him up, noticed how the man flicked his tongue to lick his lips as he took in the telling bulge at the front of the his pants. Coming to a decision, he returned the smile with a sexy smirk got up to follow.

This could prove to be a very pleasurable distraction; Atobe's babying be damned.

-

-

_**Tokyo Narita International Airport**_

_**Tokyo, Japan**_

_**01.20 PM**_

"Snow-san, please give some comments!"

"Kyaaaah! Sleep with me, Snow!"

"Snow, look this way! Please look this way!"

"Marry me, Snow!"

"Have a child with me!"

The young model frowned; the airport was too crowded for his taste. The chaotic, almost claustrophobic sensations made his head throbbed painfully. Even after being a model for almost two years, he still couldn't get himself comfortable with the crowds.

Not to mention that his muscles were still heavy and sated because of the sex and blowjob he had earlier from that fine steward. Ryoma had been inducted to the mile high club for about a year now and he knew better than to face the public with mussed hair and tousled clothes and the particular afterglow that just screamed that he had just gotten a good laid with no apparent care about the turbulence. The attractive Italian had pocketed his phone number into Ryoma's pocket sometime earlier, and though Ryoma knew that they would never go anywhere, it never hurt to have a pretty lay.

"It seems like you attracted half of the female population in Tokyo and almost as many males," Yoshida commented with quiet amusement.

"I thought you made sure that no one will know about my going back to Japan?!" the young model hissed, obviously pissed off judging by the scowl prettily marring his pale face. The golden eyes, usually so cold and indifferent, were smouldering with blatant displeasure.

"I did!" Yoshida shot back in self-defence, "_Atobe-san_ was the one who declared both of your return to Japan. He thought that at least his return should be befitting of his status! He said and I quote 'Ore-sama shall not receive the same treatment as those plebeians!' or something like that…" Yoshida emphasized with a hand on his hip while the other was jabbing at some random direction, an almost perfect imitation of the diva's demanding body language although he faltered at the last.

Ryoma glared him for the last time before he clucked his tongue, "Che! Stupid monkey king… and his equally stupid whims…"

"Oh, by the way, one of your fans apparently wants you to autograph her breasts." Yoshida tapped on his chin thoughtfully, "Personally, I think it's quite large. Double C, or was it D-cup?"

"Not interested." Ryoma muttered with a scowl, "Just because I'm bi, it doesn't mean that I'm that low."

Chuckling, Yoshida caught sign of one of his assistants waving from the direction of the main entrance through the rabid crowds that was barely controllable by the security guards and lines, "This way, Snow…" Yoshida guided both the model and the multi-billionaire to the black van that awaited them in the front.

Ryoma scowled even deeper, especially when another infuriating voice joined him.

"Smile, brat! We are the kings of the day!" Atobe said joining Ryoma long, quick strides to the front of the airport before circling an arm around the slim model.

"Why don't _you_? It's your welcome, not mine." Ryoma said in his usual nonchalant attitude as he brushed off Atobe.

"Why, you ungrateful little brat…." Atobe hissed through a professional smile, his twitch visible as he glared the younger male, "After all I've done for you—"

"I never asked for this," Ryoma snapped quietly, rolling his eyes heavenward. "Otherwise, hurry up. I have other things to deal with, unlike you."

Atobe scowled but decided to be the mature one, "Talking about other things, you best not forget that you have a photo shoot at Todai in a couple hours. Where shall ore-sama pick you up?" Atobe asked walking through the doors that guards opened for them and into the van with Ryoma. Atobe almost commented on being treated as a commoner being stuffed into a van when he was so used to limos – no thanks to the limo service being messed up because they touched down an hour late – when Ryoma started to speak and cut off that train of thoughts and his tone attracted his attention.

"At my old house," Ryoma said a bit crossly, "Apparently my old man got hitched a few days ago and naturally, I have to do a little meet-and-greet session."

The diva raised an eyebrow at his expression, not even hearing it from him before but didn't comment on it. "Ore-sama shall come for you around three then?" Atobe asked, while glancing at his Rolex.

"Sure," Ryoma merely uttered as Yoshida rattled off his schedule on the other side.

"… so really you have roughly about… umm, two days off before we pick up full speed again?" Yoshida finished off, titling his head to one side.

"Whatever."

He was used to travelling extensively and living on a tight schedule so jet lag was never a problem anymore. It was the fact that what was waiting for him that made him tired and irritably.

-:- -:- -:- -:- -:-

"You look well," Ryoga said glancing at his younger brother from the corner of his eye as the younger climbed into his car before he drove them to the Aoyama district where they spent the latter half of their childhood and teenage years.

His bratty little brother was evidently taller – reaching an almost decent five feet ten from his previous five feet four though he was still tiny compared to Ryoga's bulkier body, compact muscles, and six feet two feet build – more toned, more androgynous, and definitely paler. Ryoga faintly wondered how long had it been since he touched a racquet. His hair was longer and touching his shoulders. The way he dressed also changed even more dramatically from two years ago.

He was wearing a loose, white cashmere Prada's V-neck sweater and dark low-slung tight denim that clung to his figure. His four hundred thousand worth of Dolce & Gabbana tinted glasses were steady over his narrow, slim nose. His left ear had a Sterling Silver intricately designed cuff on the upper lobe; there were two piercing marks on the right ear and a single mark on the left. A black leather choker was around his elegant neck and there was a twin Native American black braided charms he wore around his slender left wrist.

The black lacquered nails, the stark contrast of black, smooth tattoo on his neck beneath the left ear which was somewhat obscured by his hair, and the small black rose tattoo peeking from his right hipbone didn't miss Ryoga's attention.

'_Nice.'_ Ryoga thought as he saw the black rose tattoo.

He never knew that his brother could be so… _devilish_. There was something gothic and sullen about this new Ryoma. Hard to believe that it was the same big-eyed, chubby toddler that used to cling on to him like a lost puppy.

"Hn, more or less." Ryoma shrugged, caressing a sleepy Karupin sleeping in his arms. "… Tell me more about… them."

"Well, you may rest your holler if you're thinking this woman married old man for the dough." Ryoga said through a sigh. "Something's up and they're not telling why. Nothing big though, that's for sure. But she's all right."

"How well do you know her?" Ryoma asked blandly.

"I met her twice." Ryoga spoke as he slowed to a stop at a red light, "The first time was pretty awkward since dad introduced her as a 'friend', or so he said. I was rather freaked out when I finally registered the fact that she wasn't a young, bouncy female."

Ryoma ignored Ryoga's last comment, "And the second?" the younger male raised a delicate eyebrow at his brother, a gesture to annoy that he had copied and mastered from a certain Monkey King just to annoy him.

"When he went and did the deed." Ryoga said with a sardonic smirk, "I seriously thought he wasn't going to do it. But then again, he's an Echizen."

"Hn." Ryoma merely hummed as he turned his gaze back to the pedestrians outside.

"Otherwise," Ryoga said continuing, "We have an older sister with two kids, who happens to be in the midst of divorce from a supposedly bastard of a husband, and two brothers. Both younger than me, _but_ older than you."

Ryoma blinked before turning back to Ryoga, "Fuck… that means—"

"Yup, chibisuke!" Ryoga grinned slyly, "You're still the _baby_ in the family."

"_Go and die."_ Ryoma said crossly in English to his brother who seemed to find immense pleasure in teasing him. They had not met up for quite a while now, but you got to give it to Ryoga for making it easy between them.

"After you, chibisuke, after you." Ryoga finished with a manly chuckle, "The older boy attends Todai, arts major. The other one started last spring. Said that he got sick and hospitalized for almost a year because of an accident and got delayed."

"So?" Ryoma muttered disinterestedly.

"They must be pretty smart, right?"

Ryoma gave him a look, "You went there too, dumbass."

"Which is why they're smart because _moi_ was its alumni," Ryoga said smugly as he pulled up into the familiar driveway, "Anyway, speaking about studies, I heard from the news that you almost got dropped out of your university because you never appeared in classes? And to think that you used to be hailed as the prodigy child—"

"Just shut the hell up and drive," Ryoma said crossly as he crossed his arms.

"Touché," Ryoga snickered, _'I guess it's a sensitive subject?'_

-:- -:- -:- -:- -:-

When they arrived at the Echizen residence, a pang of nostalgia washed over Ryoma for a minute. He faintly wondered if the old tennis court was still there.

"Well, when compared to that seventy-six million dollars penthouse in New York that Atobe gave you for your birthday slash early Christmas present and the three other apartments and penthouse you bought, being back here must be boring, huh?"

Ryoma merely scoffed, "Not another word, Ryoga."

"But your other homes are so nice. The one in Malibu is my personal favourite," Ryoga sighed with mock longing, "Must have cost you quite some fortune, eh? If you sum it up, including your frozen assets and all, your fortune is reaching almost half a billion, isn't it?" his brother whistled lowly, "Your going international was a nice move, bro. You struck millions over night and even ranked twelve the richest under twenty in America and still on the running,"

"Mada mada dane," Ryoma sighed, knowing that his brother was taunting for a reaction and decided not to grant him the satisfaction of it.

"By the way, your car is a killer. I fell in love at first sight!" his brother grinned.

"That also came from saru-sama." Ryoma rolled his eyes, "Said it matches his eyes. He's the only living human being who bought an Aston Martin just because it matches his eyes,"

"And he gave it to you, why?" Ryoga scrunched his eyebrows; it definitely sounded like Atobe Keigo, the cousin of a college friend of his who he met on more than a few campus occasions before.

"So that I will not forget His Highness' _generosity_,"

"Typical."

Ryoma snorted, "Idiot,"

The two brothers walked towards the door and stopped just in front of it. For a while, neither said anything.

"Ready, little bro?" Ryoga asked in English, grinning at Ryoma's obvious discomfort.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Ryoma said with a sigh as his brother rung the buzzer, taking his time to look around him – noting the changes and the lingering of what was similar to that of his memories. Damn, he was getting all sentimental. He needed to kick someone, preferably Atobe Keigo.

"Yes?"

"It's me, Ryoga."

The door was quickly opened and it revealed a smiling woman who turn startled when she realized that there was someone else with him. Ryoma looked up, while still stroking Karupin's fur as the cat nuzzled his arm, and locked his gaze with Yoshiko.

"Umm, Ryoga, is this…?" Yoshiko gasped softly; clapping a hand against her mouth as realization dawned upon her. Even without Ryoga saying it, the uncanny resemblance of his and his father and brother was almost too evident. True that compared to the older males of the Echizen, he was more delicate and fair. But an Echizen male and his eyes couldn't be mistaken for anything else.

Ryoga nodded and stepped to the left, "This is Ryoma, Yoshiko-san." the male Echizen introduced before turning back to his brother, "Ryoma, our new mother."

"Fu-Echizen Yoshiko, desu…" Yoshiko stammered, completely lost on how to act at the sudden introduction.

"Yoroshiku," Ryoma said, shifting Karupin and reaching out for her hand only to find her bowing customarily polite at him.

"Been abroad too long ne?" Ryoga teased as he ushered Yoshiko inside and stepping in after her. Ryoma merely threw him a dry glare before bending down to put Karupin to the ground. At the once familiar surroundings, the cat immediately leaped and began his own retour around the house. Ryoma stared blankly around him, ignoring Yoshiko and her nervous stance.

"He's a kitten behind the scowl," Ryoga bent to whisper to Yoshiko slightly seeing as she was more than slightly nervous to meet the youngest Echizen.

A relieved smile broke out on her face as Yoshiko took that into account. He actually wasn't all that intimidating. On second thought, _both_ weren't as bad as she anticipated. They were both polite to her and if they didn't accept her, they definitely didn't hold it against her.

"Yumiko, Yusuke, and Akiko are inside." Yoshiko informed quietly.

"The boys are still at school, then?"

"Aa," Yoshiko said with another smile, "Yuuta should be home soon enough though."

"Oh." Ryoga merely answered slipping his shoes off and into the slippers waiting. Ryoma on the other hand, who had became used to living abroad, felt a bit reserved about the changes in the house. It was clear that it was more homely now with a woman's touch in it and the _getabako_ was also more crowded with slippers and shoes of all kinds, colours, and sizes.

He must have been daydreaming because Yoshiko looked at him and softly called him, "Umm, anou Ryoma-san?"

Ryoma snapped out of his reverie and addressed Yoshiko, "… Ah," he paused before he spoke again, "Is the old man around?"

"Old man?" Yoshiko took a few seconds to digest the question, "O, oh! If it is your father you're looking for, he's this way…" Yoshiko lifted a hand towards the living room off to the left awkwardly.

"Doumo…" Ryoma merely replied as he knocked his boots off and slipped into a pair of slippers. When he walked in to the living room though, he saw a beautiful brunette woman who was sitting on the sofa while reading an interior magazine looked up and greeted his older brother with a smile.

"Ryoga-san!"

"Yumiko," Ryoga greeted politely with a brief nod, before his face broke into a smile when two a brunet girl with dark eyes and black haired boy with hazel eyes abandoned their crayons and came running towards him. "Munchkins!" he grinned wolfishly as he ruffled hair of both kids that came to a stop in front of him with toothy grins. Yusuke pouted as he tried to fix the hair his uncle tousled while Akiko giggling.

Yumiko shook her head at their antics and noticing the presence of a stranger. She stood up and walked toward the two raven haired male and Ryoga took the initiative to introduce them to one another.

"Yumiko, this is Ryoma-san." Yoshiko said taking the initiative to introduce Ryoma.

"It's… nice meeting you…" Yumiko said in almost wonderment at the striking young man who she was sure the height of every female's sexually desired partner. His androgynous look could also sent rampaging hormones southward on males with 0.01 percent of gayness in them. He was very good looking, if not one of the most beautiful looking guys she'd ever met. In a way, his attractiveness was different from that of the older Echizens, who were ruggedly handsome, but he was certainly something else.

Yumiko had been quite a fan of his since his first appearance, at the time never once thinking about the possibilities of ending up as her sister, and was quite shocked when her mother had mentioned it to her.

In person, Takeuchi Ryou was every inch a perfect and intimidating black ice sculpture, befitting of his nickname. And he was even more _gorgeous_ up-close.

"Pleasure," Ryoma nodded his head slightly, maintaining a nonchalant front.

Yumiko though, not the slightest offended by his rather distant attitude, offered a smile. After all, what could she say? The young boy didn't even know that his father was married until last night and today he was introduced to the supposedly new 'family members'. Of course he'd be awkward. And the 'Snow' was nicknamed such not only for his fair complexion but also for his temper.

"I must say, otou-san…" Yumiko said to Nanjirou had come to stand nervously behind her, "You have quite a head-turning gene in your blood." she said with a mischievous smile on her red lips at the sight of the two brothers that stood side by side.

"I'd like to think so." Nanjirou said stepping forward for the dreaded moment with his youngest. They stared at each other as the rest of the occupants in the room held his breath. Ryoma gave a blank face as Nanjirou gulped and forced out, "It's been a while. How have you been –?"

"Fine," Ryoma said briskly to his father as if they were no more than distant strangers. No one in the room missed how Ryoma gave his father the cold shoulder but decided not to comment on it – Ryoga, because he knew his little brother's temper; the others, because Nanjirou already told him about their hostile relationship.

Ryoma decided to focus on anything but his father, so instead he returned to his so-called 'observation' of his new mother and sister. True that the woman his father married seemed calm and homely, unlike the modern and materialistic illustrative women or a jaded widow. So far, she only looked and acted like a housewife and Ryoma thought he could at least tolerate and ignore her even if he didn't accept her. The concept of a 'mother' was far too foreign for him.

The other female addition to his family however, was a slightly different type. Surely, she appeared to be worn and the lines of stress were prominent on her face. But traces of youthful beauty were left lingering on her person; her mischievous hazel eyes and knowing smiles amused Ryoma. Yoshiko did most of the talking as she introduced the rest of her children, "Since my sons aren't home, these are them…" Yoshiko said through the slight lapse of talk touching a photo hanging in the hall.

"Hnn," Ryoma said, diverting his attention away from his father to the picture of the wedding he didn't appear at but he did commit the two boys Yoshiko pointed out to his memory.

"The younger one is Yuuta and that's Shusuke." She pointed to their respective pictures, "They're one year apart from each other."

"Yet still older than the baby." Ryoga teased ignoring the deadly glare that Ryoma shot at him.

"They aren't that much older than you, Ryoma-san." Yoshiko said with a smile. Shusuke's only twenty-one and Yuuta's only twenty."

"Hee," Ryoma nodded, before dropping his eyes to two little _something_ standing near his legs while looking at him with awe.

Yusuke looked awe-struck, "Wow… you're so pretty, nee-chan!"

Ryoma immediately twitched, and sported some heavy veins when he heard Ryoga snickering loudly from the back, making a mental note to kick him later where it hurt. Yumiko looked torn between smiling and scolding her son whereas Yoshiko was taken aback by Yusuke's bluntness. Akiko was already yelling at her brother.

"Yusuke is an idiot!" the girl said, sticking out her tongue like the child she was, "This onii-chan is a boy!"

"No! She's a girl!" Yusuke shot back stubbornly, much to Ryoga's delight and Ryoma's irritation, "She's gotta be a girl! She's so pretty!"

Yumiko interrupted the small boy before he could say anything more damaging while suppressing a laugh. "Yusuke! I want you to apologize right now, young man!"

"Eeh? But why?" whined Yusuke with a pout, innocently oblivious.

"Because!" Yumiko paused, looking as if unsure how to explain it to her young son so that he could understand, "Because Ryoma-niisan _is_ a boy, like you. Do you like it when someone calls you a girl?"

Yusuke seemed to take in his mother's words before quickly shook his head and then turned to his new uncle while tugging on his jeans, "I'm sorry…" the boy said quietly.

Ryoma didn't say anything, but he did raise his hand and awkwardly ruffled Yusuke's hair. He wondered briefly how Ryoga made it seem so easy with his bigger hands. Yusuke seemed to be okay about it though, judging by the bright smile on his face.

"Ne, ne! Pick me up!" Yusuke said taking the initiative to acquaint himself further with Ryoma before his sister could.

"No fair!" Akiko said with a pout.

With a small smirk, Ryoma bent and swooped both up on each arms making them squeal in delight. Despite his look of utter model-glory thin of one-hundred and thirty pounds, he was deceptively strong.

"Children!" Yumiko chided her kids slightly, "Ryoma-niisan just got back for New York, he's too tired to play!"

Ryoga twitched. Yumiko addressed him as 'Ryoga-_jiichan_' in front of her children. But she used 'Ryoma-_niisan_' for his brat of a little brother. It was so unfair; he was not even _that_ old.

"Oh, that's right!" Yoshiko said with a startle that she had forgotten about her new youngest son's long trip home, "Would you like to rest or bathe first, Ryoma-san?"

"I think I'll bathe first," Ryoma said politely, as he humoured the children. "I have a photo shoot in another hour or two so I better get ready for that."

"They're overworking you," Yoshiko said with a tiny frown now. "You just got back and already you have work."

Ryoma blinked and this time, raised his face to Yoshiko. He didn't say anything, but inwardly he felt weird hearing someone say that. For two years now he had been living alone and everything was managed by his manager and Yoshida and for someone of his popularity, it was rare for him to even get some decent sleep, let alone getting acquainted with the word 'overwork'.

Yoshiko, as if catching herself ranting at Ryoma's reaction, or the lack thereof, smiled sheepishly and flushed slightly, "So… anoo, s-should I prepare a room for you here tonight, Ryoma-san?" the woman added as if unsure.

Ryoma stared at the woman curiously, unnerving her. And as he opened his mouth to speak, his older brother who was standing behind him, beat him to it.

"Don't bother, Yoshiko-san." Ryoga interrupted while ignoring the glare thrown his way, not wanting to give Ryoma any chance to brush it off given the younger teen's crass personality who couldn't get along with people as easily as him.

"He'll be crashing my place tonight, Yoshiko-san."

"Oh, I-I see…" Yoshiko sighed, slightly dejected with a relieved hint in it. Ryoga supposed that not everyone could communicate with his brother without getting a nerve fried. Ryoma could be that overbearing at times. When Yoshiko didn't see though, Ryoma kicked his leg backward and knocked Ryoga in the shin painfully. Ryoga bit his lips and whimpered, glaring at the raven haired model with a 'what was that for' look, returned with a blank 'just because' look.

Yusuke reached forward and clapped both of his small hands against Ryoma's cheeks. He and his supposed 'uncle' then engaged in a small staring contest before Yusuke started to try and take off Ryoma's sunglasses. Ryoga saw it and grimaced as he leaned to an amused Yumiko who would soon lose _any_ of the said amusement as Ryoga leaned in to whisper right next to her ear.

"You know, that sunglasses of his cost almost four hundred grand US dollars."

Yumiko immediately jumped to take Yusuke away from Ryoma's hand just before the boy lifted the sunglasses and sent it to its doom on the floor. She started to scold the confused toddler for being impolite before throwing apologetic looks on her youngest step-sibling. Ryoma blinked, raised an eyebrow, and then used his now free hand to push the sunglasses to tug on top of his head. Akiko continued to play with his hair gleefully while sitting on his other arm.

Yumiko managed to tear her children from the model fifteen minutes later, in spite of the pouting and baby tantrum they had going on. Before taking his bath, Ryoma decided to go to his old room on the second floor – or what used to be his bedroom. Ryoma nearly dropped his sling bag when he saw what used to be his sleek white zen haven had been turned into an orange kiddie world. His previously marble white room, with handsome glossy black furniture, white wardrobe, and plush white rug, along with the expensive red platform bed with his soft black mattress had all been replaced.

It wasn't that the room itself was badly made. No, the decoration was tasteful and cute. The soft brown wall was combined with warm orange and red, with white ceiling and flooring. There was two children bed with white sheets and red headboard, a small bedside desk between them while a small shelf of orange was above them. The cupboard was orange and big beside the bookshelf strategically made with smaller drawers on the lower part. There was a long, off white table used as a double study desk with two red chairs and red drawers. Overall, it was a very nice room.

But still.

-

-

Yuuta didn't understand the huge fuss people made sometimes. He had been trying to talk to Mizuki about a date earlier but he was overly distracted about something else like the rest of the population. He kept on and on talking about 'Snow' and 'Snow' and did he mention 'Snow'?

By the time Mizuki made him repeat it for the fourth time, he had been highly irritated, and asked for the sake of his own mind, who the heck was 'Snow'. Of course that didn't earn him understanding from anybody as the looked at him as if he's been living under a rock the entire time. Even Mizuki stared at Yuuta like he had just grown an extra nose on his forehead. And Yuuta then realized he made the wrong move because then everyone else started to swoon like mass dunderheads.

"—the most gorgeous thing that walked on two legs—"

"—my future husband—"

"—so hot and sexy and—"

"—wanna bend him down on a table—"

The gushing love and everything else finally provoked him, on the way home from school that day to stop by a store and grab a magazine with 'Snow' on the cover.

Unlocking the gate with his key, Yuuta nudged the magazine page to the next page as he examined 'Snow's' photo shoot. The photo ranged from a melancholic, gothic ambience of black and grey to softer colours. His poses were sensual, provocative, and dripped with sexual confidence.

Well, he had to admit the guy was like a walking sex-god, literally. But really, he somehow resembled his new father a bit and his new brother although it mostly extended to the colouring and that particular aura about him that commanded immediate attention at first sight.

Reaching for the doorknob as he struggled to balance the magazine he was examining, his book bag, keys and cell phone, he realized he hadn't unlocked the front door yet. "Damn!" Yuuta uttered as he tried to fish his keys off his finger without dropping anything. After the third unsuccessful try, Yuuta gave up and knocked on the door instead. Readjusting the items he juggled, he heard the door open.

"Need help?"

"Sure—" Yuuta said distractedly, looking up to see the half-naked sex-god himself with tousled damp hair, rivulets of water slowly trailing down the flawless skin, and a black towel wrapped low around his middle only – almost a perfect parody of the picture he was staring at just a second ago.

Forgetting everything else but the surprise in front of him, Yuuta's book bag finally slid off his shoulders which tipped the magazine from where it sat on his arms and caused the avalanche of everything Yuuta had been holding. Yuuta reddened at seeing the very being that got everyone in the miles radius fanning themselves and at the thought of the embarrassing first impression he'd just given him.

"Ara… he's so into you, he dropped everything, otouto." Ryoga said peeking from the living room.

"T-that's not true!" Yuuta defended hotly before his eyes drifted downward to what Ryoma and Ryoga's gaze was on more than him.

Right in front of all three of them was centre page of Ryoma sprawled naked on his stomach with only a thin, white sheet hiding his lower middle from prying gazes. His black rose tattoo was peeking teasingly, while his eyes were looking upward at the camera rather sharply from a high angle in a completely white room of transparent veils and fluffy pillows. The other page was a picture where dazed looking Ryoma was lying on the black ceramic floor while his lower body was leaned against a velvet couch – one knee bent artistically. The thin sheets was the only thing covering his modesty as he titled his head upside down to the camera with one hand against his forehead and the other limped on the floor.

"That's, uh—it-it's not like _that_!" Yuuta announced scrambling before all else to close the magazine and shove it deep into his book bag. Ryoma was amused to see how a human could turn so red. It reminded him of the boiled crab in Hokkaido Yoshida once brought him to eat.

"Then how is it?" Ryoga asked slyly while wriggling a gleeful eyebrow, knowing he had caught Yuuta red-handed. Hell, the boy's reaction was so similar to how they first met and it gave Ryoga the unambiguous understanding that he was definitely into his own sex and not the fairer side.

"I was—I was reading a section in it, a-and…" Yuuta stammered his oh-so-convincing lie as he busied himself by picking up the rest of the stuff he dropped to avoid eye contact with both Ryoga and Ryoma. Actually, he was hoping for the earth to crack so he could just bury himself in it. This was so embarrassing – in front of him was probably the most worshipped under twenty of the century and he was making a complete idiot out of himself not a second into the meeting.

"Oh, really?" Ryoga was not convinced obviously, "Like the—"

"Leave him alone." Ryoma cut in briskly, using that 'you're being childish' tone as he began to walk to the room he had left his clothes in.

"Spoil my fun, why don't you?" the older male rolled his eyes heaven ward.

"Oh, my! Ryoma-san!" Yoshiko, who heard and came down to see all the commotion, gasped as she clasped a hand against her mouth. Her cheeks were slightly flushed as she took in how her supposedly youngest son was parading around almost naked. "You're going to catch a cold walking around like that…"

Ryoma gave a curt nod, faintly thinking that it had been a while since anyone ever said something like that to him but quickly recovered. He simply turned and left a gaping Yuuta in his wake as he went back the kitchen where he was lounging while his Florida apple juice when the doorbell rang. It was his habit when he was in America and he was not about to change it.

"Oi, chibisuke! Wear some clothes!" Ryoga yelled from the front door where he was entertaining himself by watching Yuuta, "Not everyone appreciates your parading around naked—"

"Where's the brat?"

Ryoga stopped short and turned to a familiar voice speaking only to find Atobe Keigo standing there in his expensive Hermes and Armani, whereas behind him was a really handsome Bugatti Veyron. Honestly, Ryoga rolled his eyes, these guys _and_ their cars.

Atobe raised an eyebrow. "Ryoga."

"Why, if it isn't the King himself. I supposed that I should be grateful that Your Highness has graced me with his presence?" Ryoga shrugged, mirroring Atobe's gesture while looking at Atobe who stood behind Yuuta, who was gaping all over again at the sight of the handsome diva dressed smartly and stylishly, screaming money and power in his every move. What was it with today and handsome blokes?

"Of course, plebeian." Atobe snorted as he impatiently added, "Now, where's my brat?"

Ryoga twitched at the _my_ part, "Chibisuke went to get dressed."

Atobe's steely eyes slowly went down to a flushed Yuuta before shooting up to a small woman in her forties standing beside the tall and toned Ryoga.

"Oh, and this is—" Yoshiko bowed to Atobe before turning inquisitively to Ryoga.

"Ryoma's money." Ryoga said with a straight face, not taking his eyes off Atobe.

"Excuse me?" Yoshiko repeated with a confused face.

"His boss." Ryoga clarified with a twist of his lips upward in seemingly a smile of some sort, "He just got back, Atobe. And he got barely _one_ hour… and a half—"

"—which is _plenty_ of time when compared at with the rest of his schedule for someone of his calibre." Atobe interrupted smoothly, "Besides, he'll have nothing to do for the next two days. At least, not until his photographer from Milan arrived."

"Sou ka…" Ryoga appeared to be in some thoughts when he broke into a mischievous grin, "I never thought I'd live to see the day that the great Atobe Keigo plays chauffeur for my otouto." Ryoga said amusedly as he leaned casually against the wall while crossing his arms by his chest, ignoring the technicality that it was Kabaji, Atobe's personal man in the waiting who actually drove the car as usual when Atobe was not being escorted by his chauffeur.

"I need the car for… other stuff." Atobe pointed out.

"_Other_ stuff?" Ryoga repeated, "How eloquent, saru. Tell me, does it have something to do with glasses-wearing brunets?"

Atobe threw the Echizen's oldest son a glare, earning him an amused chuckle.

"You kids these days… can't wait to get into other people's pants, huh?" Ryoga said examining Atobe's slightly eccentric style.

"At least I have pants to get into." Atobe arrogantly used a hand to push his hair back.

"Are you saying I don't get any these days?" Ryoga asked with the quirk of his brow just enough to look unquestionably handsome yet poised.

"Try climbing into mine someday." Atobe merely challenged.

Ryoga merely let out a laugh, "I'll take that as an invitation to your bedroom."

"Which I'd rather _not_ have happening anytime soon," Ryoma interrupted with his appearance while pushing back his damp bangs with his hand, and although he managed to preserve his trademark poker face, he did feel slightly disturbed inside at the thought of his brother and his boss rolling around in silk sheets on a bed that could probably fit five to six grown people. Their ego would destroy the world and God save the population.

"I'm leaving." Ryoma called out for the rest of everyone else's sake and pushed his glasses back and tugged one end of his headset to his right ear, slipping the sleekly glossed red and black slim iPod onto his pocket.

Yuuta stared at Ryoma, as the model yawned slightly. Even his yawn looked sexy, his mind added involuntarily.

Earlier on, Ryoma had changed into a pair of casual jeans and loose, black sleeveless shirt topped by a pricey looking an unzipped parachute hoodie that was slightly big on him that it dropped from his shoulders to reveal the lines of his neck and skin. He thought little that what he wore revealed more than it hid. Yuuta blushed when he caught himself ogling the model.

"Have a good one," Yumiko called out as Ryoma followed Atobe out the door.

"Don't work too hard!" Yoshiko called after as well.

The four of them watched as Ryoma followed Atobe to the car, all the way tossing insults and taunts like Sunday Frisbees and biting each other's head verbally.

It took Yuuta another one minute before he realized that a world class model had just shown up at his house, dripping wet and half nude. "Nee, okaa-san… where are they going and why was he here? Isn't he… you know, some big shot model in America?" Yuuta said as he hugged his stuff to his chest.

"Oh, that was your other brother, Ryoma, who just got back from New York a few hours ago and he has a photo shoot somewhere." Yoshiko said with a small smile.

"Oh."

…

…

…

"_Snow_ is my _brother_!" Yuuta asked in shock, looking pale and faint, dropping everything all together again.

"Yup! And don't _cum_ in your pants now," Ryoga, who had been waiting for the inevitable reaction, grinned while patting his younger brother on the shoulder in mock sympathy, "You're not _that_ excited, aren't you?"

"Aa—am not!" Yuuta yelled with a blush that contradicted his statement.

-

-

_**Tokyo Daigaku**_

_**Tokyo, Japan**_

_**03.15 PM (continuation of the photo session from the first chapter)**_

A chorus of gasps and excited squeals broke from all around.

"… Someone failed to tell me I'd have to bare myself for some odd thirty people." Ryoma merely said to Mitsuru without a single change of expression. Inwardly, he was having the pleasurable, evil image of shaving Atobe's hair bald, _again_.

"Oh, don't worry about it! Of course, you can keep your underwear on?" Mitsuru said with a straight face.

Ryoma in turn looked blankly at him and replied. "… I go by commando."

That earned another bout of squealing. Mitsuru had this starry look in his eyes like a sugar-high kid inside a candy store and Ryoma suddenly had a really bad feeling. Seeing no way of escape, he reached for his top button – earning anticipating gasps – when Atobe appeared on the doorway with Kabaji on his tow as usual, attracting attentions.

"Brat! I'm gonna step out for a bit so be good."

"Why don't you be good and competent for once and tell me the details before signing me up, you stupid monkey! And I'm telling Yoshida about this!" Ryoma snapped as he tossed the jacket. Yoshida might be Atobe's 'underling', but when it came to Ryoma, he had full authority over him and always got mad when Atobe abused his right as Ryoma's boss for his personal gain.

"Che! It's not like you've never been nude in front of people before! And don't you dare tell him!" Atobe returned with a slight frown and raised eyebrow, "I'll be back in two hours to pick you up. Just two hours and I'll buy you that car you want."

Ryoma noted the lingering tone of persuasion and stubbornness. He knew at that minute that these two hours might decide Atobe Keigo's whole love-life – and sex-life – and Ryoma entertained the thought of ruining it before he decided to give in. Atobe seemed serious about this one after all.

"Whatever," Ryoma muttered as he took off his sleeveless under shirt – revealing a smooth and hairless chest, elegant shoulders, long and wiry arms, smooth washboard abs and flat belly, down to the jutting bones of his slim waist.

Everyone heard the other take a sharp breath of wonder as each skimmed the flawlessness of being before them. It took all of the people some great deal of self-control not to reach out and touch the nicely worked arms and curvy waist. They held their breath as Ryoma started to unbutton his jeans and two actually fainted while hoping that he'd take everything off, when quite suddenly the spell was broken when it seemed the god recognized someone and walked forward. Despite the fact that everyone was crossing their own fingers, wanting to be the one to catch the model's attention, he went and stopped before Yukimura Seiichi and looked at him curiously.

Yukimura slowly blinked, startled and was lost at what to do. He knew that he became the centre of attention now that the Snow himself was standing before him and staring at him as if he was some kind of rare species. To be honest, it was kind of rude. But then again, the model who stood around his height was simply too attractive to be missed when one could see him this close.

"… You're Gen's pretty boy, aren't you?"

Yukimura blinked again at the blunt statement and could only nod dumbly, not really registering his words.

Ryoma's lips slowly curled into a smirk, "Well, then don't mind if I do—"

Suddenly, to everyone's shock, the model pulled the back of Yukimura's neck and dragged his face forward before pressing his lips fully against the startled frozen teal haired male and Shusuke felt his stomach lurch with jealousy whereas Mitsuru didn't waste other second snapping away pictures with a huge grin on his face, thinking how it had just made his day. His eyes held mirth that rivalled the squealing Kikumaru's.

Yukimura's widened eyes slid shut as he felt his knees weakened considerably that he had to lean his weight against the model as he moaned quietly when Ryoma expertly and unabashedly played his mouth and worked his skilful tongue down his throat while not caring about their audience and then suddenly pulled away – a trail of saliva connecting their wet lips – and offered the flushing and panting Yukimura a sexy smirk. Yukimura's thoughts were scattered; where did he learn to kiss like that? It was illegal to kiss that good and it sure sent more than a few people aroused.

"Well, I guess coming back to Japan isn't such a bad idea, after all."

For the first time in his life, Shusuke felt jealous of Yukimura as Ryoma caressed his best friend's cheek, fantasizing it was him in his stead.

What was it about this young model that attracted him so?

* * *

**End's Note:** Well, that's that for now, folks. And in case that you're wondering, Ryoma's glasses 'Dolce & Gabbana DG2027B' does cost $383,609 and right now is the most spendy sunglasses. Why did Ryoma spend a fortune on it? Well, just because he could, we guess. Anyway, we'll tell you later!

By the way, if you're curious about the rooms and all, there are links to the picture in our profile.

**Responses:**

**Kat_sakura --** Most likely the fun will begin very soon. Although the theme of love forever… we're not sure it can actually, ya know, fit. But the good part is coming fast. (Moon : "Right, Eugene?") (Gene : thumbs up and grinned).

**henriette --** It's just a few months from their parents' marriage. Sorry if it's a little confusing, we'll try to make it a bit easier to understand. (Moon : "I honestly didn't know if that was a cry of sadness that we didn't show a naked Ryoma or a cry of please don't show a naked Ryoma!" XD) (Gene : "Oh, oh! I vote for the first!")

**tsub4ki --** Yuuta is just being the silly little brat he is about a change in pace but he's coming around slowly. ^^ And yes, we really wanted to showcase Nanjirou's nervousness and Ryoma's apathy in this matter. Well, as for the 'someone'… you'll just have to wait and see! XD (Gene and Moon : "We're evil! Kyaa!")

**MysteriousEyez --** If there's anything we love more than writing, it's receiving encouraging reviews that express the desire to see more. We had to do a lot of planning to even get this far so it's rewarding to see reviews. And be rest assured that we _will_ do everything to make it worth your time.

**ElementalFoxGoddess --** Well… we don't know who is going to top yet. It's something we haven't discussed, or at the point of time being, trying to figure out.

**Lapis Rane --** Definitely right on that account, how they deal with that is up ahead.

**alaine --** We haven't decided on the seme-uke thing. And ah, sorry about that! We do want to keep all of you on your toes.

**bru --** Thank you for the review!

**Shinigami Rachi --** Oh, my God! Your review is adorable!

**Firey Chronicles --** Truth be told, we don't know if it's going to stay 'T' for now. (Moon : "But mostly likely that we'll might move it up, ne Eugene?) (Gene : "Yeah, because I just _know_ it there's going to be some hot, steamy 'M' scenes.")

**primaaryet --** Euh, we hope that it meets your expectation. They met when Ryoma's _nude_.

**Oshizu --** Thanks for the review!

**wuzzgoinon --** Isn't that what makes Thrill thrive? The dirty scenes and catchy cat and mouse games they always go through! (Moon : "As for my own fics It's coming along soon…. and yours Eugene?") (Gene : "… Umm… oops? He, he… I'm trying… really, I am." ^^)

**nicki-gurl --** On behalf of the both of us, we are thrilled that you were not disappointed because we hope this chapter didn't disappoint you either. (Gene : "And, yeah… to be honest, I never thought that one day, I'll be working with Moon. I mean, I'm a fan of her works and it seemed a little impossible when I read _**The Risks We Take**_.") Uh-huh, the whole point of the story is about the irony of their situation. We planned to make each character flawed and humane. As for the summary of dominance, umm…we'll get to that soon. We hope.

**afallenheart --** After you! Review, please?

**Heart --** Your review was really encouraging and we both know we have a support team behind us at all times but sometimes it's discouraging to receive little to no reviews for a chapter we had to think up, write and post. Nonetheless, we are honoured to have a wandering sheep from LJ reading our story. Please review?

**who-8-mai-rice --** A bit off topic, but your name is awesome! XD We just loves it when people point out what they like because we get an insight on what people like. That and it help our ego ROFL (Gene : pops Moon's big head)

**Sweet3 --** Glad to meet your liking! Please continue to support us!

**o0Shira0o --** We remember you! You're in-depth reviews always make me smile. We're glad we were accurate on such parts because we had to really put ourselves in those shoes to try to get the best point of view for the story. We're also hoping the Thrill community will revive with the new series running now so please do continue to support our story with an occasional review. We will do our utmost best at answering our reviewers and have a knit relationship with all of you as well. As for the Imperial Pair, well… we're both fans of that as well. Hope to see you around? (Moon : hails Gene for answering first chapter's reviews practically by herself)

**L'uke-chan –** Yup, sadly real life is taxing and it's Gene's and my baby story that hasn't even bloomed to its full potential yet. XD

**-X-Nefertiri-X- --** We could've broken it into shorter chapters, but then you'd all be more impatient to see what happened next each time something big happened, right?

**Eleanor Rigby --** And we're about to dish it out too! So don't miss it!

**MARYLOVER --** You're forgiven ^^ Just because I feel I've neglected all the readers as well by not updating more often. (Moon: "Now whose gonna forgive me?") (Gene : "Second that!") Anyways, Fuji has connections. Yukimura for one, (cough) Tezuka (cough) as another. It's more like his friends have it and he was dragged along with it. Besides Yoshiko's name, there's next to nothing on her in the real series so we had to make her up even if we have to change her age while at it. The important thing about Yoshiko was to make her human and not a weak willed woman or a goddess. About the 'voice'… (Moon : grins "Are you sure about that?") (Gene : "Never takes thing at face value though… tee-hee!") The Echizen's will have to have their family talk some other time but it will come although it will be slow because for now, the tension lay dormant. And yes, many people forget we do this as a side hobby, not as a real paying job so it may become a burden to try to keep up with demand but we will _always_ make sure were enjoying what we write and post when we feel like it.

**ohlordies --** Here you go then! But it's not finished though. Keep tabs for the next chapter!

**oOoAriakeoOo --** And here comes the update! (Gene : "The description could do with a bit more flair, I think. And as for the Ryoma, well… you can say that our twisted ideas sometimes went over the cloud and he's the product of it?")

**DxLee --** Please remember to review as well!


	4. Family Bonding, I Think Not

**WHEN FUJI BECAME AN ECHIZEN**

_Written by Playgirl Eugene and MoonExpressions_

**Author's Note :** Hey, hey, hey! Here comes the new chapter for your early Christmas gift from us! Please drop some reviews as our gifts! (Gene : "Check out the revised version of the previous chapters!") By the way, any hints of Ryoga x Ryoma and Ryoga x Yumiko that you might have noticed or will notice are purely for the sake of fan service. But for Ryoga x Yumiko fans, we will drop hints here and there. We don't have anyone in mind to pair those two up and the chances of them ended up together are rather impractical and unrealistic. Gene does not think that it's a very good idea and it is a little illogical seeing that Shusuke and Ryoma are already involved.

**Standard Disclaimer :** The original Prince of Tennis and all of the characters, including the original plot, belong solely to Konomi Takeshi-sensei. The both of us own nothing of it and we do not earn any profit from this. This disclaimer stands firm for the whole of the story. Furthermore, if we use any material that needs to be disclaimed, there will be individual credit where due.

**Warning(s) :** In the future, depending on the readers' request, this fic might contain excessive, uncensored sexual themes; including sex between males, masturbation, foul languages, and similar traits.

**Summary :** What will happen when the Fuji family becomes a part of the crazy Echizen family? Especially when you throw in a one-night stand, attraction, and the promise to dominate the "new" sibling.

**Setting and Timeline :** Unrelated to the original setting and timeline since this is technically an AU story.

**Character Setting :** Nanjirou (43), Yoshiko (49), Ryoma (19), Fuji (21), Yuuta is (20), Yumiko and Nanako (30), and Ryoga (25)

**Chapter Details :** None in particular.

* * *

Chapter 03

"_Family Bonding, I Think Not"_

* * *

_**Tokyo Daigaku**_

_**Tokyo, Japan**_

_**03.15 PM **_

Yukimura could feel his knees buckle as the model sucked on his tongue; the smooth, warm, wet appendage reaching every corner skilfully in his mouth and Yukimura noticed that Ryoma tasted of mature, sensual bitter sweetness that reminded him of melting dark chocolate and sex. He could hear the gasps and startled exclamations from around him, but they all sounded so far away – like voices that faded in the background and for a moment, this model before him made him feel like he was the only lover that mattered in the world. The comfortable light weight on the small of his back and the way Ryoma titled his head downward slightly were intimate.

"Whoa, that was hot!" Mitsuru raved as he finally set his camera down with a grin. "I honestly wasn't expecting the first shots to be so great but then again, you _are_ the Snow!"

"Hnn, I guess coming back isn't such a bad idea after all." Ryoma released a disoriented Yukimura, not really caring the fact that the older man's knees were so weak that he wobbled on his feet, and licked his lips in a manner that kittens would after a bowl of milk and cream. Placing his right hand on his waist, he used his left to wipe the trail of saliva from the corner of his mouth.

With the exception of Mitsuru, every single human in the room was still paralyzed, staring with open-mouthed and jealous look from the beginning to the end of the kiss, rooted to their ground and flustered for a wide range of reasons. Kikumaru was gurgling something incomprehensible and Shusuke was stunned for once.

A faint pink blush coloured Yukimura's usually calm, pale face. "D-do I know you?" he stuttered after a couple breaths of harsh breathing and snapping himself out of his dumbstruck stupor Ryoma had put him in.

"More or less," Ryoma said bluntly with a lazy, slow smile and a careless shrug of his shoulders. "I'm Snow, ain't I?"

"I mean personally," Yukimura corrected as he shook his head, trying to compose himself.

"Not quite," the model replied as he combed his bangs back. "But I do see your _Gen-kun_ pretty often. You can say that we shared a rather… _amicable_ relationship."

Yukimura's attention snapped and he narrowed his eyes slightly. He was usually a very jealous lover; but the way Ryoma phrased it didn't sound like he was provoking him, merely enjoyed teasing him and testing his temper. How come he never heard about this from his boyfriend? Before he had the chance to ask it, Ryoma had already turned his attention to someone else – to one brown haired tensai standing and staring at them with a strange, unreadable look.

"Hn," Ryoma ran his eyes over Shusuke in the same manner he did Yukimura, his lips curling again in a small smile.

'_So, this one is the other one, eh?'_ Ryoma had seen the picture, but the real thing left a softer, more docile impression. Fuji was someone Ryoma would've overlooked in the crowd on a different occasion. His new stepbrother was not unattractive, quite the opposite really. He should've stand out in the crowd like Sanada Genichirou's pretty faced boyfriend. But there was something about his body language and disarming smile, one that hinted he was intentionally blending into the crowd; he was a sideline observer – a dangerous kind of quiet.

"You're cuter in person."

An amused chuckle escaped Shusuke at the sudden, unexpected statement as he tried to register the fact that _Snow_ was actually talking to – and flirting with – him without looking too surprised. _Whatever he meant by that just now,_ Shusuke thought; catching the sight of his best friend standing behind the model with a suspicious face.

The usually calm Yukimura still looked uncharacteristically dazed and flustered, understandable and amusing all at once, and Shusuke didn't bother to deny the fact that he was jealous. Who wouldn't, at least no one in this room he knew for sure. He turned his eyes back to Ryoma, relaxing his posture even more by folding his hands on his back.

"I take that as a compliment, coming from you." Shusuke caught himself on time as he titled his head back slightly, and realized that the model was slightly shorter than him, standing only around Yukimura's height.

Ryoma raked his brain for a name as his oyaji's new wife had told him, but he couldn't really place it – as usual. "Hnn, your name is…" he mumbled, more to himself than anyone else. But Shusuke apparently caught it and had looked a little confused as to why the model would ask for his name.

"I'm Fu-Echizen Shusuke,"

Whatever he said had elicited a small, seductive bout of chuckle from Ryoma, who then cocked his head knowingly to a side. "Aa, that's it. I remember now, _aniki_." Ryoma returned with a deliberate, slow sensuality.

Blinking a couple of times as if unsure whether they really heard what they thought they heard, Yukimura and Shusuke stared at him with stunned eyes, and opened their mouth, only to be beaten by a shell shocked Kikumaru, who managed to sneak up on them and was now pointing an accusing finger at an annoyed Ryoma, effectively attracting the attention of the people who was watching the model, discreetly or otherwise.

"Naniiiiiiiii?! You're—!" Yukimura, with surprising and graceful movements, suddenly clamped his hand over Kikumaru's mouth, muffling the redhead's voice. Kikumaru struggled in his hold, shaking his head and was finally released when Yukimura noticed how his face started to turn blue from the lack of oxygen. Yukimura didn't exactly let the hyperactive redhead go, but just enough to stop him in case Kikumaru screamed something the model wouldn't appreciate.

Knowing better than to yell like he almost did before, Kikumaru lowered his voice but didn't bother to hide his surprise, _"Aniki?!"_ was Kikumaru frenzied whispered, as he shook and flailed his hands about while looking at Ryoma and Shusuke alternatively. "What do you mean by that? Fu-I mean Ech—_mou,_ Fujiko! You're his _brother_?"

Shusuke smiled quietly, albeit a little strained in his effort, and titled his head to the side; all the while glancing at Ryoma with unreadable expression before turning back to Kikumaru with a disarming grin.

"I…don't know?"

"What?" Kikumaru pouted again, obviously confused and feeling left out.

"Well," Ryoma slowly started as he tugged his thumbs on the rim of his jeans, "I see no point in hiding it, since we're going to bump into each other a lot from now on."

_Now that's a very appealing prospect,_ Shusuke inwardly thought.

"Shusuke," Yukimura interrupted with a rather tight smile at his brunet friend, effectively putting his daydream to an abrupt stop. "Last time we checked, you were recently named Echizen, _not_ Takeuchi, right?"

"Ara, didn't you know?" Yukimura and Shusuke turned to see Mitsuru, who was adjusting the lens of his camera while approaching them with a secretive smile on his face. "Takeuchi Ryou is only his pseudonym. It's his late mother's maiden name,"

"One I used to avoid stalkers like you obviously." Ryoma deadpanned, looking resigned and slightly guarded of the cheerful, giddy, flirtatious Tezuka. "How did you even know that? It's supposed to be confidential,"

"Atobe-san wasn't exactly good at keeping secrets, or holding his liquor as much as he would've liked to believe." Mitsuru giggled and beamed brightly at Ryoma, "Especially around my cousin, Kuni-san. He couldn't stop bragging about you regardless of the situation, really."

Ryoma twitched and averted his face; a vein popping at the side of his forehead. He knew that the diva was a sucker for his crush, but he should've known better than to divulge something like that so freely. It was his personal life and the leak of his personal information might lead to the loss of that. After all, Atobe was always yapping away about professionalism and not mixing personal life with work. He supposed even the monkey would break some rules for some people.

"That damned idiot monkey. I thought he was supposed to be a professional," Ryoma muttered to himself with an annoyed pout as he thought about several malicious scenario to terrorize the diva for a month.

Kikumaru still had this adorable, confused frown on his face, while Yukimura's had morphed into an amused expression far too gleeful for even Shusuke's taste. Shusuke hadn't been particularly listening in to what they were talking about. His eyes were too busy raking the sight of the model, imagining what that lissome body would look like completely exposed, and his mind was still trying to process the fact that _Snow_ was actually his new stepfather's son; no wonder the model shared the same name with Nanjirou's late wife.

"So, anyway, how do you want me?" Ryoma asked with a slight yawn, cocking his head to the side while casually placing his right hand on the curve of his waist and rubbing his neck around the tattooed area to ease some tension knots there. He wasn't exactly jet-lagged, no. His job demanded him to be accustomed to excessive, absurdly long travel; but fourteen-hour flight with the obnoxious, obscenely melodramatic, and sexually depraved Atobe had mentally exhausted him.

_Really, he made every move seems so effortless. No wonder Atobe adores him. He's like a living art,_ Yukimura thought with an amused smile on his face, pressing his fingers against his slightly bruised lips. _Although, when he kisses like that, it's hard not to adore him._

"Under me and bound to the bedpost if possible," Mitsuru offered without missing a beat as an innocent smile graced his face, as if he was making a running comment about the weather, immediately causing some people to stiffen – for various level of reasons. Their club's captain sense of humour could be so depraved sometimes, and the mental image he injected did not help at all.

Ryoma just stared at the man who was so different from the uptight, strict man who was supposed to be his cousin and Atobe's crush.

"Kinky. Are you sure you're a Tezuka?"

Mitsuru chuckled, his eyes glimmering with mirth and playfulness. Ryoma took in the wholeness of Tezuka Mitsuru; smooth baby-face features framed by spiked, messy brown hair, mischievous light brown eyes behind wire-framed glasses, and a dimpled smile. He had Tezuka's characteristics and authority, but that easy-going attitude and the air of free spirit about him were not something you would expect from a member of that straight-laced family.

"Well then, Snow-san, can you go over to the front so we can start the session?" Mitsuru gestured towards the empty space in the middle of the darkened room. The room was already organized; the lightings were set to a strategic brightness and overall, it was quite a professional setting despite the lack of ornate decoration.

Ryoma, wanting to end it as soon as possible, moved to the centre of the room. He reached his pants and was about to tug them down, causing more than a few to gasp loudly in anticipation and some to actually nosebleed and faint, when a girl burst into the room suddenly and effectively surprising all of them to look up to the doorway.

"Tezuka-kun!" She was blond and rather small in build, looking out of breath as if she had just run a marathon – maybe she did – and completely dishevelled .

"Maruyama, what is it?" Mitsuru frowned as he turned to the girl.

"Ca-campus heard," Maruyama breathed out in difficulties between her pants. "The _whole_ campus heard! They know! Someone told them!"

"Heard what?" Mitsuru repeated with an uneasy expression on his face; like he knew what it could only be.

"S-Snow… he-_here_!" She squeaked and turned to see herself if he really _was_ here. Her eyes widened as it met Ryoma's suddenly apprehensive stare and then, she screamed before fainting on the spot and surprising everyone in the room. Before anyone could do anything about it though, chants and screams of the student population was heard and Ryoma immediately felt himself stiffened in something that could only be associated with _fear_.

"This isn't what I had in mind…" Mitsuru mumbled as the rest of the photography club tried to prevent the overly excited and curious students from entering the photography club room. For one thing, the spastic crowd would damage their expensive and delicate equipments; another thing was that they had a world-class model inside that became their responsibility the moment he agreed to model for them.

"I'm sure it wasn't," Ryoma murmured as shoved his hand into his pants and fished out his phone. This was an unexpected emergency, but he figured Atobe had accumulated around a good ten minutes with his lover boy and _that_ had to count for something.

While speed dialling Atobe's number, he faintly wondered how fast Atobe would fly here to protect his biggest asset, because he had to if Ryoma was to remain his biggest asset. That monkey and him had some serious issues that they both didn't understand; like they weren't meant to exist in the same room ever since they first set eyes on one another and they might be fighting like couple of old hens all the time and would always find reasons to start up some petty arguments, but the diva _loved_ him. Or at least, in a sense.

An irritated, snobbish voice answered and Ryoma was almost relieved to hear the pompous tone. _"Brat, __this had better be a global world crisis for you to be done already—"_

"Pick me up now!" Ryoma interrupted with mild panic, having no time and was too worried for his survival to humour Atobe's melodramatic tirade.

"_Do you realize that ore-sama hasn't even taken off even one measly piece of—"_

"Saru, I _really _don't give a damn about how far you get to stick your grubby hands into his pants right now! Do you want me back in one piece or not?" Ryoma shouted, words spilling out of him with rising hysteria, trying and failing completely to drown the undying screams of his fans as they attempted to get glimpse and perhaps a touch through the protective barricade the club members.

Apparently Atobe, insensitive as Ryoma accused him to be, caught his urgency. "_What happened now, brat?"_

"Someone told the whole fucking campus about me and now they're demanding organs and blood and limbs, so get me out of here now or I'll ruin your face and mine to get out if I have to! And I am not kidding, saru!" Ryoma ranted; he knew he was panicking and it was uncharacteristic of him, but he rationalized that it was a good time to panic as any.

"_Che, fine!"_

Without waiting for any further confirmation, Ryoma hung up on the phone and turned to the sight of rabid fans fighting over his sleeveless shirt and jacket like a bunch of savage animals and felt himself breaking sweats of panic. Great; he liked those. What if they managed to get their hands on him? He did not even want to think about it.

Despite how calm he looked though as he buttoned his jeans – what a pity – Shusuke saw through his façade and noted how irritated he was. Shusuke noted how his brow twitched slightly as the screams renewed itself before it even died out to the smug smile that threatened to turn into a frown.

"Mou! Gomenne, Snow-san, I don't mean for it to turn out like this!" Mitsuru pouted from where he stood beside the model; his full lower lips pursed as he tried to pry of stray hands from touching the model. Atobe was not going to be happy about this; not at all.

"Hn, betsuni." Ryoma said distractedly as he took two steps back, watching his screaming fans warily while trying to remain calm and slowly felt more and more like abandoning his pride and just scream; his mind trying to come up with all possible escape plans.

"Can we possibly do the shoot some other time?" Mitsuru pleaded with wide, hopeful eyes.

"Perhaps," _if saru-sama comes so I can make it out of here alive, that is._

Shusuke couldn't help but chuckle aloud when the five minutes of screaming wouldn't cease and the space that Ryoma had asked for no longer existed. It was certainly an amusing sight to see the calm and aloof Snow as he neared his breaking point. He didn't though, because at that minute, a group of professionally build men in black filed into the room and started to barricade a more solid path of escape for Ryoma.

Atobe, looking royally offended and spectacularly pissed, appeared on the doorway with a scowl on his handsome face and both hands inside the pocket of his expensive pants.

"About time," Ryoma bit out as he tried to evade some wandering hands that managed to sneak between the human barricades his bodyguards made for him.

"Brat, I swear that sometimes you're more trouble than you're worth," Atobe said as he grabbed at the luxurious looking lightweight cashmere silk jacket draped over his broad shoulder and instead used it to cover Ryoma's nude upper body and wrapped a protective arm around him before leading the way back through the crowd and away from everyone's view.

Slowly, the bodyguards backed away in calculated steps, forming a protective half-circle around them, effectively securing that their bosses got away safely with their fellow guards before they regrouped to make sure that no one slipped pass their line of defence and would only leave when the diva and his precious charge made it back to the car. When the last bodyguard finally left, the fans ran out, obviously not giving up in trying to catching up with the model.

Some of the photography club members followed them, while a few including a dejected looking Mitsuru had already started tidying the place up. Yukimura though, was leaning against the window panel at the end of the room, catching the sight of Atobe and Ryoma as they headed for a spendy looking car parked in the middle of the parking lot. When he realized that his tensai friend had joined him, Yukimura chuckled pleasantly.

"Simply amazing, ne?" Yukimura whispered to no one in particular, a wistful look playing on his fine, delicate features as he watched Atobe leading Ryoma away as his bodyguards tried to hold the horde of fans. Even from where he was, he could see that the two were bickering heatedly about something. The rumours about their rather… err, _passionate_ relationship was not so far from the truth after all.

"Perhaps." Shusuke titled his head and smiled; accusatory venom dripping from his every word. He was feeling uncharacteristically unreasonable when he saw that Yukimura's lips were still red and swelling from the kiss. "After all, he kissed _you_."

Yukimura blinked, as if not believing that the one before him was indeed his best friend. Eyes gleaming amusedly, he smiled gently at Shusuke.

"Jealous, Shu?"

"Somewhat." Shusuke admitted carelessly, "So… how was it like kissing a god?"

"Exactly how you would imagine it to be," Yukimura said with a slow, deliberately seductive tone as he licked his own lips; his hooded eyes never leaving the form of the model. _"Awfully good."_

"Saa, I see." Shusuke murmured in his quiet voice, following Yukimura's line of sight and leaned down, crossing his arms and perching in on the window ledge; his blue eyes darkening almost predatorily as they continued to watch the fans running towards the front gate in hope to catch another glimpse of the model.

"But, you know… maybe I _have_ seen him somewhere before. He surely hinted that I have. I just can't put my finger on where." Yukimura said digging into his jeans for his cell phone. "No way I could've forgotten a face like _that_, right?"

"Point." Shusuke answered and straightened up, "So what are you going to do about it?"

"Ask someone else about it. Someone who _knows_ something about it," Yukimura rolled the contact list and stopped at a very familiar name; his boyfriend's which had been mentioned earlier on, Sanada Genichirou.

-

-

_**Grandhill Apartment**_

_**Roppongi, Tokyo**_

_**03.35 PM **_

The drive to Ryoga's apartment was far from peaceful. Atobe couldn't stop sulking and pouting and ranting that he missed the chance to strike it with his _adorable _Tezuka-san and how he would be thirty before he managed to lay him. Apparently, he was blaming it on everything and everyone that came to mind, including Ryoma who merely rolled his eyes at the display of childishness. When they finally reached it, Ryoma couldn't be any more thankful for that.

"You still owe me that car, you know." Ryoma informed Atobe, as he pushed himself against the cool, first-class leather of Atobe's Bugatti; yawning as he did so. "I want the new Koenigsegg CXX."

"Brat, you didn't even finish the shoot!" Atobe snapped irritably as the younger male slid out of his car, before catching the deadpanned look Ryoma shoot him and knew he lost before he even tried it. "Che! Fine; Porsche Carrera GT."

"We agreed on me _doing_ the shoot, not that I had to actually _finish_ it." Ryoma raised his head and saw Ryoga who was leaning against the railing of the apartment's rather elaborate entrance, waving casually at him. Nodding, he turned back to Atobe with a smug smirk on his lips. "You, of all people, should know better than to promise something on spoken contracts, saru-sama. I was almost raped in a job that Yoshida was _not _aware of after all."

Atobe heard the threat in his words loud and clear. "Why you little brat—!"

"Right, monkey, either that, or you're buying me that Ferrari Enzo. Oh, and I'm telling Tezuka-san that _you_ are bullying me." Ryoma paused and frowned. Okay, he might be going a little too far. When it concerned a certain brunet by the name of Tezuka, Atobe Keigo was as harmless as a kicked puppy. And Atobe was crappy at making puppy eyes, no matter how much he denied it; the fact that he didn't do puppy eyes or considering that he was Atobe Keigo, he wouldn't do anything crappy, even when doing puppy eyes. So he changed tactic.

"You really want me to look up for someone by the name of Ichijou Kaoruko on the phone book and inform her where to find you when you're banging Tezuka-san?" Ryoma asked and revelled with satisfaction when he saw colour drained from Atobe in a dramatic fashion, his face looking almost too comical for words. Smirking, the model continued, "Thought so. Although, it will be interesting to see you run with your little tail between your legs from the princess again, but I'm not that cruel."

"Ore-sama is not afraid of her, brat." Atobe groused, looking slightly tense and very much offended. "And there's _nothing little_ between my legs, you know that."

"Of course, Your Highness. Oh, send the car to my apartment. Izumi-san would know what to do as usual," Ryoma ended, referring to his housekeeper back in America. The old woman was stern and of old school, but she was the most efficient, competent, and professional housekeeper Ryoma could hope on getting.

Atobe opened his mouth to rant again, but Ryoma slammed the door and effectively ceased his tirade. Judging by the glare Atobe threw his way, Ryoma knew he'd be getting it soon enough. Atobe drove away as he approached his older brother, who had an eyebrow raised at him. "Interesting conversation."

"Wasn't it?" Ryoma smirked as he followed his brother into the one of the three condo tower. He noted that the facilitations – the huge pools, the gym, the Jacuzzi, the sauna, the yoga studio, exercise and function rooms, landscape garden, playground, and the sport grounds – were satisfactory for his taste.

Passing the classing rotating glass door, he walked into a sparsely decorated lobby was high, ornate ceiling, glass panels, white pillars, and covered with plush red rug. It was an inch away from rivalling that of a five-star hotel; the classy taste it reflected was to be expected from his older brother. He watched with interest as Ryoga led him to the inner part of the lobby to ceiling-high wooden door and fished out a palm-sized card – dark, plum red in colour and emblazoned with cursive silver writing of _Grandhill Apartment - Residential Exclusive Access_ – from his pocket and swiped it on the scanner before entering a four-digit code. The automatic door slid aside and revealed a spacious hall with a half-nude Romanian woman statue fountain in the middle of it, a twin marble winding staircases and three, blue tinted round residential glass elevators on each wing.

"Hee, you live in style, aniki." Ryoma commented absently as Ryoga headed for one of the staircase to the right and pressed the up-button.

"Che, it's nothing compared to what you live in, chibisuke, and you know it!" Ryoga said as one of the elevators opened. They entered it and Ryoma leaned against the railing, noting that he could view the whole Roppongi from where he stood, while Ryoga inserted his card into a slot of the button panel.

"Is that programmed for the residence?" Ryoma asked idly, taking off his glasses and blowing a speck of dust from it.

"What, this?" Ryoga echoed as he gestured at the card without fully turning around at his brother. "Well, it's for the residents living in the presidential suite so only the tenants can get to that level; for privacy's sake."

"High-class."

"Sure," the older man said with a shrug. As they reached the twentieth level, Ryoga walked towards the right of the only two doors of the floor. "Now, let's get you changed into something comfortable instead of eye-popping for the evening." Ryoga felt his phone vibrated and flipped the leather case to check the in-coming text message on his iPhone 3GS while opening the front door at the same time.

"And whaddya know? _Mother dearest_ is requesting our presence for the premier Echizen family dinner in a couple hours, at a _restaurant_." he said in a sing-song, overly cheerful voice.

Ryoma's impassive face hinted at discomfort at the message. "Meaning?"

"Meaning the family wants to play 'bond' so get your rest up for that." Ryoga clarified while swinging his door open for Ryoma. "Get in, and oh, feel free to make yourself at home, chibisuke!"

-

-

_**Yukimura's Household**_

_**Tokyo, Japan**_

_**05.10 PM**_

"Seiichi, have you had your dinner? Do you want me to warm something up for you?" His blue haired mother asked as she greeted her third son who was in the middle of taking his shoes off at the genkan.

Yukimura smiled politely at the sweet, petite woman. "There's no need, okaa-san. I'll be retiring for the night; it's been a hectic day." _Too hectic._

His mother nodded, noting that her son did look tired. "Alright then. I'll run the hot bath for you,"

"That'll be much appreciated, okaa-san. Arigatou."

Yukimura Sachi shook her head at her son's politeness; she had long given up trying to change that of her youngest boy. He was such a charming, lovely boy but sometimes he was too mature and soft-spoken for her liking.

Yukimura headed for his room; catching the sound of his second and youngest sister bickering over who got to use the phone in the living room. He entered his room, the one next to his oldest brother, Kouichi's, and closed the door quietly. He took out his phone from his bag and dialled the number of his boyfriend''s. On the second ring, a familiar and deep voice answered him.

"_Seiichi,"_

"Gen-kun, I want to talk about what I messaged you earlier just now,"

"_Ah, about Snow's visit to your campus?"_ There was a distinct sound of amusement and familiarity in the usually stern voice, _"As expected of him. He must have stirred quite a commotion,"_

"Indeed." Yukimura said blandly, "He mentioned you, by the way."

"_Did he now? That is unexpected,"_

"So I assumed that you know him quite well and so have I from how familiar he talks to me about _you_." Yukimura pouted, sounding almost accusing.

"_I assure you, Seiichi, that we have nothing going on between us. I will never cheat on you and he's not exactly someone I would play around with unless I want a very crossed Atobe and Tezuka after my hide, and yes, I'm pretty sure that you've met him in person before.__"_

"And when would that be, Gen-kun?" Yukimura asked as he raked his brain for a specific time and place when such a hot little thing could pass his line of sight and _not_ be a memorable memory. The chances were astronomically close to zero and none at all.

"_Before he left Japan for Milan; or rather, before he debuted officially."_

"What?" Frowning even deeper now, Yukimura found himself still unable to place those sultry eyes and pale, delicate skin beside from television screen, the news media, and glossed paper. Now, where could he have seen the pretty little kitten before?

Sanada then suggested, "_Why don't you try going through some albums from two years ago for starter, Seiichi?"_

-

-

_**Grandhill Apartment**_

_**Roppongi, Tokyo**_

_**05.40 PM **_

Ryoga had just stepped out of his hot bath, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist and another draped over his broad shoulder. Rubbing the pristine terrycloth against his damp hair, he looked up to see Ryoma, who was wearing Ryoga's few sizes too big long-sleeved white shirt and a short boxer – he seemed to be comfortable walking around naked, but Ryoga wasn't so he shoved the make-do clothes to his little brother earlier – sprawled on the sofa.

Ryoma seemed to be in the middle of a heated conversation on the phone with 'Yoshida' while petting a contently sleeping Karupin that Ryoga had brought back to the apartment, knowing better than to forget the kitten when he knew just how deep Ryoma's love was for that moody cat.

He went to the sleek, modern kitchen adjacent to the living room to grab some drink. He and Ryoma never seemed to be able to break that particular habit they shared. He heard his brother ended the call with a curt 'whatever' and an annoyed sigh as he opened the canned cappuccino, brought it to his lips, and went to stand near the sofa. "So, how long is your break, chibisuke?"

"What break?" Ryoma snapped back as he stared at the long, ranting text he just received from Atobe about how his schedule was going to be _very_ packed starting in two days and how Atobe was going to _make sure_ it would remain that way for the following week. That guy was doing this on purpose; Ryoma was practiced enough to catch Atobe's rebellious, bratty streak symptoms from miles away. He could practically imagine that overgrown baby sticking his tongue out and pulling the patch of skin under his eyes like a petulant brat. "That damned monkey is blaming _me_ because he couldn't get laid, _again!"_

"What's that got to do with your break—" Almost choking, a bewildered Ryoga was unceremoniously cut off when Ryoma's cell phone started ringing again.

Glancing at the anonymous number displayed on the screen, Ryoma's eyebrow lifted slightly when he noted the number was from overseas. He looked contemplative for a few seconds and finally decided to answer it on the fifth ring. "Snow's speaking and make it snappy," Ryoma sounded as if he was only answering out of whim.

"Ah, Snow!" Ryoga could hear the excitement of the other end of the line from where he stood, "This is Richardson. Do you remember me? I was there at your—"

"Is this supposed to mean something?" Ryoma snapped a bit bluntly; an annoyed look settling on his face again. He was wondering where did the guy managed to get his grubby hands on his number and why was he acting so friendly with him.

Obviously discouraged by his tone, Richardson cleared his throat and continued with much less enthusiasm and more apprehension. The model was indeed as volatile and difficult as they said he was. "R-right… I work for producer Mr. Robert Johnson, and he has expressed his interest in inviting you to play for a new movie. Umm, y-you've heard about Scarlet Mercier, the uprising new actress, right? We were hoping that you would be willing to help promoting—"

"Hnn," Ryoma hummed with amusement, a smirk playing on his lips. He patted on Karupin's head once before the graceful feline jumped from his master's lap and head for the random direction of the kitchen."In other words, you're all hoping that I'll jumpstart her career with a little scandal, eh?"

"N-no! Why would you say th—"

"Go talk to Yoshida, or better yet, go talk to Atobe Keigo. And don't call this number again," Ryoma said with finality in his tone before abruptly ending the call. He had to change the number, again.

"Sheesh, chibisuke." Ryoga said with a grin at his brother; obviously he had heard everything. Ryoga felt a pang of sorry for the poor guy. No one deserved being the receiving end of his brother's mood. "You're a hard ass on job offers. Robert Johnson is that big shot producer for that film that won six Grammy Awards and three Oscar nomination, right? And, dude, Scarlet Mercier is _hot_."

Ryoma shrugged. He could never understand why people always tried to make it big through scandals and decided that it would be a good idea to start acting all chummy with him, before they tried to use him to make it to the front page overnight. Atobe and Yoshida were like double layers of steel fortress fully equipped with the necessary arms and ammo and more when it concerned him, thus they had since then started to come directly to him and tried to make several tempting offers, dangling it before him and hoping that he would take the bait. They were either simple-minded idiots, or thought that Ryoma was one.

Ryoga decided to drop the subject as it appeared that Ryoma wouldn't be elaborating it any further. If there was something that Ryoma never bothered to talk about since he started the whole modelling jazz, it would be about his job. "Anyway, chibisuke, it's fifteen to six. I think you better wash up and get ready. _They're_ expecting us at seven,"

Ryoma frowned, "Do we have to do this?"

All he got in return was a raised eyebrow.

"And, why eat out exactly?" Ryoma was honestly never one for the crowd, especially ever since Snow was popularized as the modern fashion culture's icon. He hadn't been able to get a breather from public and tended to avoid going outside unnecessarily.

"Chibisuke, do you honestly think she'll be comfortable prancing around the house like okaa-san used to when you've just met her as oyaji's legal wife for the grand total of, say, _three hours?"_ Ryoga said incredulously, "Before the old man dragged us to Florida, okaa-san _did _live in that house, you know. And besides, I don't think anyone in this dysfunctional family is comfortable of being alone in a room."

"But from what I saw, you're quite comfortable with them already." Ryoma shot back as he made a move to stand and stretch languidly.

"I like to think I'm neutral," Ryoga waved his hand dismissively. "I wouldn't call it cosy or anything though, but the brats _are_ cute."

"Hee, wasn't it because their mother was hot?" the younger Echizen said as he titled his head slightly to the side.

The faintest of blush sprang on Ryoga's still damp skin. He half-heartedly threw the towel he had been using to dry his hair at Ryoma and glared at him. "Go and get change, chibisuke."

"Che."

-:- -:- -:- -:- -:-

Ryoga had finished dressing in ten minutes and spent the next twenty waiting for his little brother with crossed arms and a scowling face. Looking alternatively between his watch and Ryoma's room, he decided to give in to his curiosity and went to check on Ryoma. When younger, his little brother had this habit of falling asleep in the bathtub and there was no telling whether he still had it or not.

"Oi, chibisuke! What are you doing?" Ryoga said with a hint of annoyance as he entered the room Ryoma was using without so much as a knock. His brother might be a world-class model, but it didn't mean that he should take so long to throw some clothes on. He was not a woman, for heaven's sake. "Hurry it up, will you—"

Ryoga stopped short when Ryoma's chosen outfit finally sunk into his mind. The younger Echizen was standing beside his bed, wearing a pair of expensive looking Armani short jeans that barely covered half of his smooth, shapely thigh and a loose burgundy coloured kimono top that was crossed in the front and tied around his body at the back like a bodice, with detachable, slightly flaring sleeves that reached the tips of his long, elegant fingers; a pair of black gender-neutral strapped heels completed his ensemble.

"Chibisuke, I said comfortable, not rape-able." Ryoga deadpanned, eyeing Ryoma's rather scandalous outfit. "That's worse than earlier. And besides, you look like a chick."

"But it _is_ comfortable." Ryoma returned evenly, "And besides, I'm incognito. Like this, I'm a just chick with flat chest and a pair of _awfully_ nice legs and butt, but not Snow."

Ryoga raised an eyebrow, thinking that Ryoma had started to sound very much like his young boss and it was worrying him. "And you can't be something else, _why?"_

"Why not?" Ryoma shrugged, "_You're_ not exactly being modest either, aniki."

Shamelessly, Ryoma ran his eyes at the length of his brother's very appealing build with a hint of appreciation and mild jealousy. He had long ago given up the thought of having that kind of build; he simply didn't have that kind of raw masculinity in his bones and his overall physique. Ryoga was wearing a tight quarter-length sleeved, collared t-shirt that exposed his collarbone and clung to his body like second skin, showing just how toned the older Echizen really was – with broad shoulders that narrowed down to powerful hips that swagger with confidence, his chest perfectly muscled and his abs defined. To match the navy blue top, he was wearing a pair of tight white jeans that emphasized on his long, powerful legs encased in mid-calf high, strapped black boots with short heels.

"Hee, not bad. Not bad at all, aniki."

_Definitely been hanging around that Atobe brat for too long,_ Ryoga mentally decided. No wonder those two survived each other so long despite their seemingly rocky relationship. He faint wondered if they had slept together. Most unlikely, but still.

_Bad thoughts, Ryoga. Get out of there._

Ryoma apparently noticed the trail of his brother's thought and a salacious smirk touched his lips. He startled Ryoga by throwing his arms around the older Echizen's neck, who was taller than him by almost a head. "Why? Are you getting all hot and bothered over me, _onii-sama_?"

Ryoga raised an eyebrow, "Aren't you being a little too conceited?"

"Nay, I've been told I am kind of hot." Ryoma smirked, "With velvet tongue to boots."

Ryoga had to laugh at that. "Well, sorry to disappoint, _otouto_. But as depraved as I am, I'm not about to jump bones at my own brother. That's just so wrong on so many levels, and the thought of having _the Snow_ sucking me off is too much. And you have _my _face, for God's sake." True, for supposed cousins, their features resembled the other so much it was disturbing sometimes. It was all too easy to mistake them as real brothers.

"But we're not blood brothers." Ryoma countered, playfully caressing Ryoga's nape. Ryoga had to admit that those long, lean fingers sent shivers down his spine. "And besides, isn't it exciting to see a face like your own blowing you? The forbidden is always the best after all. Come now aniki, aren't you curious?"

Ryoga sighed, not in the least disturbed by Ryoma's flirting, all too used in handling his little brother's volatile moods and unpredictability. All hot blooded Echizen seemed to have that running in their veins, arteries, and capillaries; himself and their old man included. "I know, but no. I'm not so stupid to be involved with _you_, of all people."

Ryoma stared at his brother's face for a moment and finally rolled his eyes before releasing him. "Che, you're no fun." He was hoping that that he could tease his brother about getting erect over his little brother. Seriously, Ryoga could be such a surprising man with equally surprising moral. His novel length, impressive record with women and concupiscent endavours hadn't exactly been saintly either and while Ryoma was no woman and not exactly _Atobe vain_, he was definitely better looking than some of them.

Ryoga shook his head at Ryoma's antics. What happened to his adorable little brother who came running to him every time someone called him 'girly' and every time some woman came up and pinched his cheek? He missed those times.

After Ryoma's near drowning experience, Ryoga had developed an overprotective streak ten miles wide to a point where he developed a serious case of brother-complex, or so according to Atobe Shingo, his best friend for almost twenty years since their elementary days.

Since early of age, Ryoma had so utterly adorable that people couldn't help but wanting to bully him. Boys always teased him, because he was cuter than the girls his age, and older women would 'molest' him. Each time Ryoma burst into near tears while clutching his cheeks to prevent any stray kisses and pinches in defiance, there were always people who were ready to adopt and/or kidnap his younger brother.

Things changed since Ryoma entered puberty. His pretty face and gender-ambiguous body attracted perverted, older men and male upperclassmen trying to feel him up at every given chance and enact their depraved fantasies on him. It was worse since Ryoma attended an all-boys school back then. Girls, older or otherwise, started to develop stalker tendencies like sending their nude pictures, hair, notes written in blood, desperate love letters, and bizarre presents. They even had to unplug the phone because it never stopped ringing, there were always people watching around the house and it stressed Ryoma like nothing else could. He even stopped playing tennis and instead locked himself in his room and curdled in a desolate corner.

Two times over, Ryoma was almost raped by older men on his way home and a woman once drugged him and attempted to kidnap him. In one incident during his last year of secondary school, some girls tried to cut his hair and one boy that was the closest thing Ryoma had as a friend, was injured and sent to the hospital. Ryoma decided he had enough and started to distance himself from everything and everyone, growing his hair to cover his face, moving to a school that took two-hour trip from home, and he started to wear glasses and clothes two sizes too big. There was a time where Ryoma thought about moving to the dorms, but even then his roommate tried to climb on his bed in the middle of the night after seeing him bathing.

Ryoga guessed that it was when they started to lose the boy. Nanjirou was not helping with the way he slowly isolated himself and Ryoga could not understand his brother anymore. But now, seeing Ryoma at complete ease with himself, maybe the whole modelling business did some good for him after all. Now, he seemed to enjoy exercising the full potential and perks of having that face and body instead of wanting to disfigure it like he had in the past. Still.

"Can't you change into something else?" Ryoga persisted, looking at him unsurely once more.

Ryoma gave him a deadpanned look, "This is the only decent thing I have on me right now. My stuff are still at saru's place, remember? Be thankful that it covered as much as it does,"

"Yes, for that we have to be a bit thankful," Ryoga rolled his eyes again before turning around and grabbed his car key, twirling it playfully between his fingers. "All right, chibi! It's time to go play the adoring uncles and accepting sons!"

"I'll leave that to you," Ryoma deadpanned dryly, slipping his tinted shades over his hair again. "You seem to be pretty good at it already,"

"Chibisuke, you seriously need to loosen up a bit sometimes."

Despite his grin and casual exuberance, the fact was Ryoga wasn't looking forward to a night with the family remained. It was bound to be awkward, uncomfortable, and everything along the line. God knew Ryoma had the subtlety of a bulldozer regarding such delicate matters; Ryoga simply hoped that nothing eventful would happen during this first 'get together' with their stepfamily. He doubted it though.

-

-

_**Tezuka's Residence**_

_**Tokyo, Japan**_

_**05.55 PM **_

Atobe intently watched those long, elegant fingers as Tezuka swirled the _chasen_ from his position across Atobe, sitting with his legs folded neatly and his back ramrod straight. He sat like a rogue king; masculine, yet casual – never one for formalities and stiffness. With his left knee bent and the other leg crossed, Atobe pinned his left elbow on his knee, delicately cradling his chin as he stared at the brunet appreciatively.

Tezuka really suited that yukata. It emphasized on the smooth, chiseled chest and the defined collarbone. Tezuka Kunimitsu was always so calm, so immaculate. Initially, Atobe had been offended by his cool standoffishness but he was also curious. He had never met someone like Tezuka Kunimitsu before. To him then, Tezuka was dull and boring; a man of absolutely no life.

It was only when he saw the brunet inside the tennis court that he saw the free-spirited, passionate man underneath the composed exterior. Ever since then, Atobe had this inexplicable obsession to ruffle and tousle that man, preferably on his silk covered, super king sized bed and nude. It had taken him three years to get where he was in that man's eyes and he would stop at nothing before he owned the brunet.

He wanted to pin him down and trace his finger and tongue across his jaw, his neck, to his chest, and _lower_ still, and see if that man could still remain so unperturbed. It was always the quiet ones, after all. Take the brat for example.

"I thank you for allowing my cousin to photograph the model, Snow-san." Tezuka said formally as he served the very warm tea before Atobe, "I am aware that he has a very busy schedule, but he still reserves time for Mitsuru."

Atobe smirked slowly in satisfaction. _Oh,_ he was so scoring the brunet tonight. While he had always been irrevocably jealous of Tezuka's unusual doting when it concerned Mitsuru, but it might have been a good thing after all.

He shrugged, taking the _chawan_ Tezuka served and bringing it to his lips. "The brat was a bit handful but then, there's _nothing_ that ore-sama can't do when he set his mind to it." At this, he eyed Tezuka with open suggestiveness; lowering his eyes just enough. His full lips curling into a salacious smirk, he made sure that the brunet could no longer avoid the topic, could no longer run. He made his message loud and clear – _I want you and there's nothing you can do about it but accept_.

The faintest of pink dusted Tezuka's cheeks, but the man simply closed his eyes and averted his face politely. He knew that the Atobe's heir was interested in him, for reasons he could not understand. He had managed to stay on his ground from this ambitious, persuasive, demanding man for so long and fend against his amorous advances. He simply didn't know for how much longer Atobe was willing to remain patient in this game of cat and mouse they were playing.

Atobe-san looked disturbingly… happy right now. Tezuka then shuddered; he had a _baaaaad_ feeling about tonight.

-

-

_**Echizen Residence**_

_**Tokyo, Japan**_

_**07.15 PM **_

"Ryoga-jiichan's back!" Yusuke called out, racing to the door and practically tackled Ryoga. Ryoma watched with unreadable eyes as Ryoga's grinned and ruffled Yusuke's hair, causing the boy to frown and tried to flatten his wild brown locks against his forehead again.

"Aww, you're messing up my hair again!" Yusuke complained as he pouted at Ryoga, trying to catch Ryoga's teasing hand from making a mess of his hair again.

"Muchkin," Ryoga asked as tugged his boots off in smooth movements and slid into one of the spare slippers lined on the small shelf on the _genkan_. He entered the hallway, with Ryoma following closely behind. "Where's Aki-chan?"

"Right here, Ryoga-jiichan!" Akiko shouted out, rounding the corner in full speed only to be caught in Ryoga's arms and swung into the air. Akiko let out a small shriek of giggles and gave Ryoga a big hug and affectionate nose nuzzle as he caught her in his arms with a grin.

"Aren't you the perfect uncle?" Ryoma commented from where he was inclined against the wall. He was leaning carelessly; his shoulder pressed against the wall and his arms, as well as his legs, were crossed in a show of elegant casualness. It might have fooled anyone else, but Ryoga was his brother and he knew that Ryoma was not as calm as he portrayed himself to be.

"Shut it, chibisuke. They just remind of you when you were still cuddly and cute." Ryoga grinned smugly as he caught the scowl crossing his brother's otherwise impassive visage. Suddenly, he had this urge to tease and bully him like he always did when Ryoma was still a cute elementary student who hid behind his legs each time they had guests. "Don't tell me you're jealous?"

"Go die." Ryoma spat, closing his eyes and averting his face as he sat on the sofa. He wasn't jealous, he was way pass that – well, maybe just _a little bit_, but as if he would admit that to Ryoga. The older man's head was inflated enough as it was. Anymore, and he would burst.

From behind the kitchen's doorway where she was standing while mustering her courage to face the inevitable music that night, Yoshiko glimpsed the arrival of the two brothers and watched their interaction with gentle, amused eyes. The two Echizen siblings were beautiful, there was no denying it. It wasn't strange that Nanjirou couldn't help but adore his boys. Pity that he couldn't express it like he should; they were both precious, good children. They even tried not to say anything about the whole marriage thing when Yoshiko knew that they weren't comfortable with her around.

Yoshiko's face flushed slightly when she saw Yusuke climbing on Ryoma's laps and causing the kimono top to ride a little higher, baring pale flesh to watching eyes. She had seen Nanjirou's wife, Rinko's, picture on their… room – God, it was still embarrassingly awkward saying that. Nanjirou, out of politeness, had offered to keep it in the cupboard if it made Yoshiko uncomfortable, but his eyes held such pain and dilemma at the thought of removing the picture and Yoshiko didn't want to replace Rinko's place in this household. Rinko was still Nanjirou's rightful wife. It was never her intention to and Nanjirou didn't marry her for that purpose, so she told Nanjirou to leave it be. She was right; because the man looked relieved and grateful for that.

Echizen Ryoma, the youngest Echizen, was indeed his mother's son. Their delicate and exotic features were like carbon copies, and even though Ryoma inherited his father's intense eyes, that glassy and straightforward, knowing gaze was definitely his mother's.

"Okaa-san," She heard Yuuta's voice from the direction of the stairs and caught the sight her son who was wearing a printed t-shirt and khaki baggy pants walking down the stairs, "I was wondering—"

Yuuta stopped short when he realized that his stepsiblings had already arrived and were sitting in the living room; effectively forgetting that he was looking for his mother. Yuuta felt blood rush to his face as he accidentally made eye contact with the model that he had just seen a few hours prior in one of the most embarrassing, awkward moments of his life.

"Love struck again, Yuuta?" Ryoga teased from where he stood in the living room with Akiko in his arms. "I was kind of expecting you would have another nosebleed again!"

"Nn-no! I-I was just surprised!" Yuuta was blushing furiously to the tip of his ears. "And I didn't have a nosebleed! Err, I mean I don't! Th-that time too!"

Ryoga snickered and even Akiko was giggling behind her palms, much to Yuuta's further embarrassment. God, when was he so last so embarrassed before? Oh, yeah. When his _dear_ aniki thought it was a good idea to hide under his desk during his freshman year in middle school to give him a little 'surprise' for his birthday.

"Aww, don't be shy. It's not that embarrassing to have the hots for my otouto, you know? He kind of has that sort of effect on people." Ryoga's lips widened into a grin as he eyed Yuuta; he _enjoyed_ teasing the younger male very much. Yuuta always did give the most amusing reactions, completely the polar opposite from his unnerving brother.

"I wasn't in the first place! I have a boyfriend and—" Yuuta vehemently denied and raised his defiant eyes, only to blush another degree of ripe red and looked down again when he caught Ryoma was staring at him with calm, intrigued eyes. Ryoma had not forgotten how Yuuta literally froze when he first saw him after all.

"I think Yuu-chan likes you too," Yusuke summed from Ryoma's laps, squirming excitedly and bouncing in his hold while pointing at himself. "Yusuke likes too, because Ryoma-niichan is very pwetty and cool!"

"Oh," Ryoma, not bothering to correct Yusuke's improper grammar, merely said as he purposely smiled at Yuuta to further agitate the older brunet. _This one is kind of cute_, Ryoma thought. It reminded him of a jumpy hamster, Ryoma mused as he pressed his forehead against Yusuke's; seeing the boy's expressive hazel eyes filled with wonder as he grinned back at Ryoma while taking the time to remove Ryoma's expensive glasses and place it on his own dark head.

"Now do I look cool like you too?" Yusuke asked, grinning toothily at Ryoma.

"Mada mada dane," Ryoma corrected with a slight smile, ruffling Yusuke's hair gently. For some reasons, he was at ease with the children, probably because they were oblivious to the complexity of their family affairs.

The kids, as Ryoga had said, were cute. Ryoma had never liked children, nor he was particularly good with them, but he supposed that he could make an exception this time. Yusuke had been the one who latched immediately on him, while Akiko seemed to be hanging off Ryoga's arm most of the time, like what she was doing now.

"Ryoga-jiichan," Akiko said in a small voice as she tugged on Ryoga's jeans, looking up to the man with suddenly cheerless face, a drastic change to her earlier exuberance.

"What is it, princess?" Ryoga caught the crestfallen look on the girl, who was still poking and prodding Ryoga's leg distractedly.

"Do you think mama will be okay?" Akiko mumbled, lowering her eyes. "Papa called and mama hasn't been happy since,"

Ryoga narrowed his eyes and frowned at the mention of Yumiko's former husband. He had heard about it from Yoshiko; the man had dumped Yumiko for the daughter of his company's president, constantly mistreating his own wife and even going as far as raising his hand to strike her in front of the kids. He didn't understand why anyone would do that to a woman like Yumiko; she was a good and strong woman, not to mention beautiful.

"Well, tell you what." Ryoga lowered himself to her level to make eye contact with her big, dark eyes. "If your daddy makes your mom cry, I'll make him cry too."

"Really?" Akiko now stared at Ryoga with a whole new degree of respect, fascination, and awe. It wasn't really a good moral to be taught to children, especially at the twins' age when they would absorb everything without filters of any kind; but then again Yusuke and Akiko had experience trauma of watching their father abusing their mother at such young age and Ryoga found his method to be crude, but effective and pardonable.

Children were so easy to please; Ryoma thought as he stared at Ryoga's assuring face. He supposed he was like Akiko at a point, looking up and holding Ryoga at such reverence, much as he refused to admit it. Ryoga always had that reliable air about him that made people wanted to lean against him.

"Yup, because us real men don't make cute girls cry." Ryoga grinned, knocking her forehead gently against his own, causing Akiko to instinctively shut her eyes and pursed her lips. "Now brighten up, princess. You look cuter smiling, and tell your mom to smile too. Okay?"

Akiko titled her head in a picture of childish innocence, "Does mama look cuter smiling too?"

Ryoga nodded, "She does."

"Okie-dokie then!" Akiko promised with a wide smile.

Ryoma watched the interaction with a slightly wary look, allowing Yusuke to wriggle around on his lap while holding him securely. "Aniki, I know that you have no qualm whatsoever with breaking morals, but tell me you don't have any hidden attention of banging the new nee—"

"Oi, oi chibisuke!" Ryoga interrupted as he instinctively clapped his hands against Akiko's the ear shells, who merely titled her head in curiosity. Apparently, Ryoga's 'older brother' habits were still dominant despite everything else. "There are minors in here! Since when are you so crude?"

Raised in a house with only foul-mouthed men and then living alone, Ryoma had never been one to care so much about his appropriate language. He shot his brother an annoyed glare, "Since when are _you_ such a prude?"

"It's called norm, chibi. At least hold it around the kids," Ryoga remembered the time when he floundered around; trying to make sure his precious little brother's ears were safe from any kinds of verbal infection. Well, considering how Ryoma swore vocabulary was like a sailor – or a veteran porn star's bedroom talking – he had failed spectacularly in that aspect.

Yusuke smiled innocently, looking between his new uncles with childish curiosity. "Ne, ne! What's banging?"

Ryoga had this look that said 'see what I mean' pinned on Ryoma, who merely shrugged his shoulders. "Wait until you're older." Ryoga answered while avoiding Yusuke's bright eyes.

Yusuke sulked; obviously he was in that phase where he would feel the most offended when someone commented on his age and his height. "But I'm five."

_Exactly,_ Ryoga thought, _imagine what your mother will do if she finds out._

"Yeah, well, _real men_ don't use words like that." Ryoga tried in a slightly manipulative attempt of changing the subject, hoping that it would falter Yusuke's curiosity.

"But… isn't Ryoma-niisan a man?" the boy instead frowned. Ryoga fought the urge to smack his own forehead; right, he forgot that Yusuke was a just brat with alarming curiosity.

Ryoma looked thoughtful for a while before he smirked; mischief playing in his bright eyes. "Well, I am bi, gender-ambiguous, and a certified _riba_ so it doesn't really apply to me."

Yusuke, obviously not understanding a single word coming from his uncle's mouth, titled his head and scrunched his face in confusion. But Ryoga, who understood every single word of it, simple glared at his utterly satisfied looking. "What kind of sick logic is that? And the hell you mean with _riba_—"

"Meaning, aniki, I have physical flexibility beyond your imagination."

"Now that's too much information, chibisuke." Ryoga grimaced, suddenly wishing the angelic, adorable, and clingy 'little ducky' Ryoma return to him. He knew that Ryoma preferred men over women, but he didn't need to know that.

"I was only _lightening up_ like you told me to," Ryoma brushed off as he leaned his forehead against the little boy's he was holding.

"Again, I said _lighten up_, not corrupt the brats." Ryoga retorted back at his wayward brother, "Don't go around twisting my words, chibisuke."

"Che,"

Their so-called conversation was abruptly interrupted – thank God, in Ryoga's opinion – when an exhausted looking Yumiko entered the living room. She saw the two brothers and, not wanting to look like she had been crying even though it was quite obvious from her slightly swollen eyes, plastered a slightly forced smile on her face.

"Welcome back you two," She noticed that each of the twin was already latched on each of their favourite new uncles and chuckled quiet despite herself. "I see the children are bothering you two again—_Yusuke!_ Give Ryoma-niisan back those glasses!" Yumiko nearly screamed as she realized that Yusuke was playing with Ryoma's glasses again.

"But mama!" Yusuke protested with a pout.

"Now, young man!" Yumiko said and Yusuke sulkily returned it with a quiet 'Sowy, Ryoma-niichan' to the older Echizen. Yumiko then shot Ryoma a sheepish, apologetic stare. "I'm sorry about that."

"It's okay. I can always buy a new one," Ryoma leaned back on his seat with a nonchalant shrug, carelessly combing his hair back and using his glasses to hold his longish bangs from falling over to his face. Yusuke – happy that his Ryoma-niichan wasn't angry – decided to bury him face into Ryoma's kimono again and nuzzled his chest. "This one's getting old anyway."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but that was just released a few months ago." Ryoga interrupted as he lowered Akiko to the floor and fixed her now tangled pigtails.

"That's what I said. It's old," Ryoma raised an eyebrow at Ryoga, letting Yusuke amuse himself with his braided charms on his wrist instead, completely missing the point.

Ryoga rolled his eyes and gave up trying to talk reasons; his bratty baby brother had been thoroughly corrupted by that rich little Atobe boy. He was going to have a _good_ talk with Shingo after this – seeing that Atobe Keigo would only listen to his arrogant, pokerfaced bastard of a friend.

From the bottom of the staircase, a pair of amused blue eyes was watching them with amusement and almost serene contemplation. His focus of attention though, was the young and delicate looking teenager sitting on the sofa while holding his nephew in his lap. His stupor was broken when a calm, quiet voice spoke.

"Like what you see?" Ryoma said casually, not even looking up to Shusuke. He had felt the older brunet's strangely intimidating presence for a while; not as long as he would've liked, but just enough.

"Immensely," Shusuke replied with a slow smile. He wasn't used of being caught while observing. He had always been quiet and stealthy and was quite proud of it, but then, he supposed his youngest step-sibling was not exactly normal either. Leading a life under constant scrutiny, public or otherwise, like he had, it made sense that he was sharper than most. This boy and his implacable composure and charisma unnerved people. There was his looks and strange charisma that would make anyone turn their heads, but he reminded Shusuke of porcelain mannequin behind the display glass; _untouchable_. He was a delicate balance of fire and ice all at once. No wonder Yuuta was constantly flushing and acting flustered around him. Even his ever calm sister seemed to be affected.

"So we do meet again,"

Ryoma turned his head and noted that a smiling man decked in soft blue and black had entered the room when their attention had been on Yuuta. It was, of course, the same man who he had seen in the picture and at the photo shoot earlier.

"Of course. We're family, aren't we?" Ryoma stated blandly, bordering almost sarcastic.

"But we didn't get to chat informally," Shusuke stated with a although he was studying Ryoma intently. The famous Snow at this proximity was ten times better than any picture he had seen so far. He was a confusing symmetry of a wild, androgynous beauty and delicate sensuality; which was one of his most famous and in-demand characteristics.

"Is there something we need to talk about?" Ryoma asked, raising an eyebrow at the brunet who was now approaching him.

"Nothing in particular _yet_," Shusuke said with a renewed smile. His gaze shifted appreciatively through the length of Ryoma's body, lingering especially long on his seemingly endless, shapely legs. His youngest sibling was definitely a through _bishounen_. Ryoga-san was devastatingly handsome, but Snow was elusive, subtle, and exotic. While he lacked on certain masculinity, there was . He suddenly had this urge to run his hand on his new sibling's skin and to verify whether the flesh was as soft and smooth as it looked. "So, can we properly be… _acquainted _now?"

Ryoma shrugged, not really noticing or caring where Shusuke's eyes strayed at. If he caught the innuendo implied in Shusuke's words, he decided to ignore it, for now. Ryoga knew Ryoma caught it though, because Shusuke wasn't exactly being subtle. Apparently, he was now trapped between siblings who had no qualms of sleeping with one another.

"I'm Echizen Shusuke." Shusuke said as he deposited himself casually on the armchair right next to Ryoma, and placed a deceptively innocent hand at the model's shoulder and lingered there, squeezing lightly. "_Pleasure_ to meet you,"

Ryoma's lips curled into a seductive smile, noting for the first time that his stepbrother was _really_ not half bad at all. He had awfully nice collarbone view by what Ryoma glimpsed by his unbuttoned collar; Ryoma liked delicious collarbones just as much as the next guy. "Ryoma; I take it that you know my last name,"

Ryoga eyed the two warily. Oh, he knew the eyes, the subtle touches, and the softly spoken words. Those two were blatantly flirting. He knew that Shusuke was always the bold, adventurous one of the former Fuji siblings, and Ryoma was surprisingly at ease with flirting – which shouldn't be because he was _Snow_ after all. The two were emitting a rather high sexual tension and he was sure that someone who was sharp enough, Yumiko for example, noticed it.

Yumiko, who had already taken a seat next to Ryoga, pushed her wavy, brown hair away from her shoulder and whispered, "Are they…?" she said hesitantly, unsure of what to think about the delicate, suggestive interaction between the two.

"Uh-huh." was all that Ryoga could say and Yumiko nodded in understanding.

"Oh."

The sexual tension between Ryoma and Shusuke was shattered when Yusuke suddenly jumped off Ryoma's lap and waved his still short arms exuberantly to gather his attention. "Ryoma-niichan, mitte, mitte! I learned something from you,"

The family watched with intrigued expression as Yusuke suddenly ran over to the walk to pose seductively – lying on his right elbow, while parting his legs and bending his right knee in the air while trying to put on an intense expression on his face – in an attempt to imitate one of Ryoma's photo but failed miserably. His childish features and undeveloped body made him look more like a performing puppy than a nude model. Shusuke wondered when his nephew went through the nude photo collection that his club captain had just lent to him a few hours prior. Yumiko was staring at her son with dawning realization and paled.

"No! This one's better!" Akiko said not wasting time running up to Yusuke and strike a different pose in attempt to outdo her brother, only to end up with the same result.

"Oh, yeah?" Yusuke said with a frown, before shifting into a crouched position like a baby tiger. Ryoma remembered that he did that particularly sexual pose with another nude model, Julian, because the photographer's idea of him 'attacking' the taller model and wondered from where the boy saw that photo.

"You're doing it wrong!" Akiko exclaimed as she did the same crouching pose, all the while wearing a childish grin on her face that had Ryoga start laughing at how much sexual innuendo the kids didn't realize they were trying to recreate.

Yumiko decided that it was enough show for the night. "Children, I want you to behave right now! Stop doing those poses!" Yumiko scolded; seeing Ryoma doing those poses had an infinitely different impact from her pre-school children. Better yet, what if they offended the model? It was the last thing that this already high-strung family needed.

"But mama!" Akiko protested; puffing her cheeks and pouted like the child she was. Unlike Yusuke, she had acted the poses that she glimpsed the magazine that Yuuta bought the other day at the kitchen where Yoshiko and Yumiko left it after going through it. "You said it was a _very_ nice pose to grandma earlier!"

Ryoga's laughter filled the air at the same time Shusuke chuckled and Yumiko reddened in mortified embarrassment. Ryoma didn't say anything; he merely raised an eyebrow. He looked at the twins for a minute, before a lazy smirk spread thinly on his lips – a telling sign of danger to Ryoga and went down on one knee in front of the kids.

"Now, you're doing it wrong." Ryoma said as he made a move to stand up, titling his head to the side. The children watched him curiously, when Ryoma simply lowered himself to a sitting position on the floor, folded his left leg and bent his right so he could place both hands on his knee and rested his chin on top of it. He cocked his head to the side, letting his longish hair flutter and gave a teasing view of the tattoo on his neck.

He lowered his face and closed his eyes, knowing and at complete ease with the knowledge that everyone in the room was watching him. Their curious eyes were nothing compared to the looks he had to endure during work. He slowly opened his eyes; deliberately peering at them with a heavily hooded gaze through his ridiculously long, thick lashes without raising his chin.

They were simple, almost unnoticeable movements. It was a very casual pose, nothing indecent or suggestive, but it commanded immediate attention – even from the children who were staring at him with wide, fascinated eyes though not really understanding why it was so different from theirs.

Like a slap to the face, Shusuke was hit with the realization that this was _Takeuchi Ryou_, the one and only Snow. His hands itched for his camera, yet he was unable unable to take his eyes off. The model was only playing with the children, amusing them, but really – he was practically every living photographer's wet dream right now and here he was getting cosy at their living room, sitting on the floor without looking out of place, and pulling off the so-called 'casual' poses that worth millions of dollar under different circumstances, that people like his family could only admire through television screens and magazine covers not one month ago. The scene was so bizarre; Shusuke had to wonder whether it was real.

Suddenly, the atmosphere changed as Nanjirou entered the room – and then, the temperature dropped several degree and the former Fuji, with the exception of Shusuke, inhaled sharply and unconsciously held their breath as Ryoga and Ryoma simultaneously looked up to their nervous looking father.

-

-

_**Yukimura's Household**_

_**Tokyo, Japan**_

_**09.25 PM**_

"Oh, God… it can't be!"

Yukimura nearly dropped the album he had been going through and suddenly felt so disoriented that he had to sit on his bed. "I know where I met him!" He gasped and rummaged his bed for his phone and dialled his boyfriend. While anxiously waiting for Sanada to pick up, he glanced at the album and a single picture had confirmed his suspicions. Sanada barely had the time to greet him when Yukimura already launched straight into the matter.

"Atobe's party!"

Sanada sounded almost amused at his boyfriend's uncharacteristic outburst, _"Excuse me?"_

"It was two years ago at Atobe's Christmas party, the one you brought me and Shusuke to, wasn't it?" Yukimura clarified, "I met him there, he was at that party!"

"_Yes,"_ came Sanada's calm reply. Yukimura could imagine the half-hearted, almost indulgent smile on Sanada's full, sarcastic lips. _"He's always been Atobe's favourite. Not that he'd admit it, but Atobe adores the boy like no other. That boy is never out of Atobe's sight, not even now."_

Yukimura bit on his lower lips and slowly pressed his face against his palm. "God, Genichirou! I think we have a problem,"

Noticing his boyfriend's distress, Sanada sounded a little more worried when he spoke next. _"What's wrong, Seiichi?"_

"I-I think I had a drop too much back then, so I didn't really remember his face and he was wearing glasses and his hair was so unkempt, but now I'm sure."

"_Well, yes. I remember that he was a little different from the Snow we know now. But he hasn't really changed that much,"_

Yukimura smiled weakly and let himself fall back on the bed with a soft thud. "Do you remember when Mitsuru-kun showed up with Tezuka-san back then? Atobe left with Tezuka-san and left him with us, right?"

"_I remember. Why?"_ Sanada's voice sounded a little suspicious and apprehensive.

"Gen, I think I ditched him with Shusuke back then,"

Silence met his words, before the voice returned with restrained surprise.

"… You _what_?"

"I left him with Shusuke." Yukimura spoke quickly as he ran a restless hand through his wavy hair, feeling uncharacteristically flustered. Pressing the heel of his hand against his eyes, he continued, "Shusuke – he… he was enamoured by the boy, and I think they left together at a point. Gen, I think they _slept_ together."

_If that's true, then that drunken one-night stand that Shusuke had been pining all along would be—_

"_Damn it."_ Sanada's voice sounded more annoyed than anything else when he finally found his voice back. _"Atobe is going to bite my head off if he finds out!"_

* * *

**End's Note :** There, how do you like that? (Gene : "For those who is wondering what is _riba_, it's actually a 'reversible', meaning someone who could be the 'seme' (attacker) and 'uke' (receiver) in a homosexual relationship.")

_**Review Replies**_

**o0Shira0o** -- Well, then you've seen Eugene's and my pervy clouded minds when we think of the brothers! XD This is the result of daydreaming from both our parts. We love talking with our reviewers! It means a lot for us to read everyone's reaction. We are also very, _very_ sorry that we haven't updated in ages. Both of us have been dealing with life, our own stories and so forth so this chapter just kept getting pushed farther back. XP

**Sweet3 –** We are happy to see your support is still with us!

**who-8-mai-rice** -- As much as we love ego-stroking us to be in depth with our perviness we have to refrain from too much as well or else it'll bore everyone and make our characters slide into Gary-Stu mode.

**ThrillPair** -- Well we had to cut it off somewhere. (Moon : "It was just me being evil and leaving cliffhangers as I do on my own stories!" XD)

**ElementalFoxGoddess **-- Well, like we mentioned before, nothing is certain yet.

**Lapis Rane **-- Glad that it helps recall your memories because we have to debate lots on how long each chapter is going to be to what's going to happen and one chapter between us can get sent three to four times to each other to make sure it's good to go.

**megamilan** -- And this is where we apologize to no end that we didn't.

**bunnykim89** -- Thank you for the review!

**alaine **-- All has partially been explained in this chapter.

**thy pantaloons** -- Be sure to review for this chapter too!

**Eleanor Rigby** -- Thank you for sticking with us!

**ErzaScarlet14** -- Glad that you enjoyed it! Stay tune for more!

**henriette** -- We haven't actually decided if we're even going to incorporate tennis in since this story is cantered around family, modelling, and school life. Thank you for your critic and we do know Ryoma is borderline Gary-Stu right now but his flaws are yet to come and his anti's are yet to appear in future chapters so stick around for that. Do mention when characters become a bit OOC so we can re-evaluate the way we presented them.

**Primaaryet** -- They will eventually start once we get everyone up and running in Japan.

**Deadly Regret** -- Encouraging us to be perverted can be damaging to all reviewers when we spazz about Ryoma and any other male that happens to walk into the picture.

-- Haha, we're flattered. Well, since it is an AU, they're bound to be some OOC-ness, but where do you mean in particular. If it's about Ryoma, his flaw will be slowly revealed because right now, everything about him was just superficial and he had less 'action time' compared to the others.

**MysticBlood** -- I'm sure Yuuta's scene was one of the most memorable scenes in the last chapter. That one day… may come sooner than you think. XD

**SamanthaLienne** -- Please keep on supporting us! (Gene : "You're always one of my favourite reader!")

**Sadari** -- Always a pleasure to know we have someone loving this fic!

**Ryoko Yuki** -- That scene you may call your authoresses trying to humour everyone in the middle of story. XD

**Takayelie** -- Even we enjoyed writing the siblings scenes! We'll be explaining why he kissed Yukimura in the next chapter.

**tsub4ki --** We just love putting on the drama and problems that'd take forever to figure out. There's actually more to family reunion than that short segment and we'll try to wrap up the main get-together this chapter.

**ryoka-chan** -- We love a review no matter if you're fluent in English or not. You were not the only one to enjoy Yuuta's scene since it came up a lot when people reviewed. Do try to review as we go along because we are really counting on all the reviewers to leave their opinions and scene they loved so we can keep in mind what people want to see between the main problems of everyone. (Moon : "Thank you for reading our individuals stories and commenting as well!")

**Mizuki-sempai** -- Thank you for the review!

**Sarah** -- Your review is encouraging to the both of us!

**MRX** -- Please keep on reading and reviewing!

**Sephony** -- Thank you for the review!

**Dontudaremesswithme** -- Ryoma does keep up with his studies to a point. How much, we'll explain as we write on.

**Nemesis Crow** -- Your review revives our muse! We hope you enjoyed what we enjoyed writing too!

**Meh Namee iish Rae** -- Thanks again for the comment!

**MARYLOVER** -- Children _are_ useful. They're cute, easy to characterize, and fit in just about anywhere. (Moon : "I use them a lot in my stories!" XD) (Gene : "I don't even want to think about writing this story without the children! Imagine the awkwardness!")

**nicki-gurl **-- Sorry that you all have always wait diligently for each chapter; but we really do _try_. The potential is always there but Ryoga and Ryoma are very reserved towards their father as you've realized. Even Ryoga keeps the 'new' family at a certain distance no matter how accepting he was about the whole thing.

**dawn chase** -- Please keep on reading and reviewing!

**X** -- That means so much to us! We hope not to disappoint you. Please keep on R&R!


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